Found and Lost
by Zoe1078
Summary: Sam Uley loves Leah Clearwater, and he doesn't know how to stop. Not when he is the first of his generation to turn into a monster, nor when she is the second only weeks later. Not even after the spirits choose for him another. AU. A/N: If you need to know whether this story will end in a HEA for Leah and Sam, just ask in a signed review or PM.
1. The Beginning

Summary: Sam Uley loves Leah Clearwater, and he doesn't know how to stop. Not when he is the first of his generation to turn into a monster, nor when she is the second only weeks later. Not even after the spirits choose for him another.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rating: M for sexuality and violence.

Long, rambling A/N: This is a love story. For those of you who read my first fanfic, Dreamscapes, you may recognize that I wrote it in order to take Bella along a character arc that (I hope) developed her from a believably in-character girl generally consistent with canon into a protagonist I could respect, a girl who actually deserved the devotion that Jacob gave her. (And to write smut. Who am I kidding, I wrote it for the lemons).

Along the way, I started thinking about the supporting cast of characters more deeply than I'd bothered to do before, and I fell in love with Leah, who deserves a much better ending than the one she got in BD. I dabbled with this in Revelations as well as two shorter stories, and in so doing I struggled with her relationship with Sam. From what we know of them, they supposedly had a genuinely loving relationship before he imprinted, and we are given no indication that Leah in any way deserved what happened to her. Moreover, the concept of imprinting disturbs me deeply (in particular, it's removal of free will, which devalues real relationships and the honest and hard work it takes to keep them healthy and mutually supportive). Therefore I keep wanting Sam to break his imprint and return to Leah, and I love reading stories in which this happens. But after everything that happened off-screen between him and Emily, I could never quite justify why Leah would take him back. So the more I thought about this pair, the more I realized I wanted to write a version of their story in which Sam might actually deserve Leah. And since I can't resist Jacob/Bella, they'll be a part of this too. Eventually. Sometime after Emily shows up.

For orientation purposes, Emily is one year older than Sam, Leah, Rachel, and Rebecca Black; Bella, Jared and Paul are one year younger; Jacob, Embry and Quil are three years younger; Seth is four years younger.

Updates will be slower than they were for my previous stories due to RL. But the whole story is plotted out, epilogue and all, so it will be completed. I hope you enjoy it.

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Sam Uley couldn't remember a specific moment when he had fallen for Leah Clearwater, because there wasn't a time in his memory when he hadn't loved her. She, or rather, the romantic girl she once was would have loved to have been able to say that they lay in adjacent bassinets in the nursery at Forks Community Hospital, but it was not the case. His birth preceded hers by an entire six month span, although she acted as if the opposite was true. But he reminded her that three and a half was much older than three, and the difference between four and three and a half even bigger. She didn't seem to mind.

It actually took them months to finally meet. He was seven and a half months old; she was just six weeks. Sammy had finally gone down for a nap, or so his mother told him, when a red-faced banshee was carried into the room and began screaming bloody murder when her mother handed her away. Sue had wanted to take more time off to be with her new baby, but money was tight, so she reluctantly dropped her off at the daycare where Allison Uley watched over the children less than a year old. Immediately upon being placed into Allison's capable arms, her high pitched squall began, instantly waking Sammy and startling the two other infants in the room. Within seconds the other babies decided to harmonize with Leah's new melody, and Sue backed slowly out of the room with guilty horror.

Sam's mother claimed that Leah did not stop screaming (except to gasp in desperate lungfuls of air) for fifty three minutes straight. Allison was somewhat used to this, of course, from her line of work. But not a single thing seemed to calm the tiny baby. Not changing, feeding, rocking, walking, singing, swaddling, shushing, or soothing. She tried sticking a pacifier in Leah's open mouth, but it was promptly ejected onto the floor. She attempted to dip the small rubber nipple into sugar water and reinsert it, but this only seemed to make Leah angry. She flipped the baby onto her stomach and cradled her along her forearm and began to gently swing her back and forth. Leah squirmed so much she was afraid she'd drop her, and there was no discernible lowering of the decibel output. She tried putting her down in an empty bassinet, but Leah just started to thrash. She peppered kisses all over the infant's cheeks and got a faceful of slobber for her trouble. Then Roy Jameson, who was slightly older than Sammy, reached around the phone cord hanging low over his crib and yanked, nearly pulling the appliance down on his own head. Allison dropped Leah into the nearest available space, Sammy's crib, and caught the phone before it fell.

The sudden silence in the room stunned her. Allison was afraid she had dropped Leah onto her head. But when she turned around, Leah had a thick lock of Sammy's hair grasped in her miniature fist and a serene look on her face. Sammy wasn't moving at all, but his eyes turned up to try to determine what was going on above and next to him, unable to actually move his head due to Leah's unusually strong hold. After a few long beats he reached up to explore what was happening to him, but his pudgy arms were too short to reach to the top of his head. Instead his fingers ran into the fabric of Leah's onesie. He latched on to the cotton with a vice grip. No sounds were exchanged. Neither of them let go of the other for another four minutes, at which time their respective grasps relaxed into sleep. And from then on if Allison couldn't calm Leah, she handed her to the not-so-capable arms of her son and thus achieved blessed silence.

Oddly, if Sammy was the only one with the power to quiet Leah, she was the only one who could coax him to speak. His first word, mama, arrived on time at seven months of age. But his second didn't appear until he was a year old. It was LeeLee. Then there no more words of any kind until he was almost two years old. At first Allison was worried that something was wrong. His pediatrician tested his hearing, wondering if he might be partly deaf. But the rest of his developmental milestones were on task, so once his perfectly normal hearing was confirmed, the doctor tried to reassure Allison that everything was probably fine. Sammy was just a quiet and thoughtful child. Eventually the young mother came to realize something important while watching Sammy and Leah. He didn't need to speak, not around her. Leah always knew what he wanted to say, and she said it much more clearly than he did.

If Leah called out, "Baba," Allison knew to give her a bottle. But upon receiving said bottle, if she screwed up her face in anger and yelled, "Bababababa!", Allison knew to give it to her son instead. If Leah said, "Up," Allison picked her up. But if Leah cried, "Upupupupup!", Allison would turn around and find her son behind her waving his arms in the air toward her. And when Leah wasn't nearby, Allison was well in tune with her baby's needs, and he didn't have to say what he needed because his mother was very good at figuring it out.

Of course, his silence didn't last forever. Leah might have been willing to speak on his behalf, but it didn't mean she didn't want to hear him. If she was upset, his small voice calling out "Leeleeleeleeleeleelee" calmed her. Eventually even that wasn't enough to soothe her, though. She wanted more from him. So when he was twenty two months old and she was sixteen months, she startled to pat at his mouth with her fingers ordering, "Say!" Allison wasn't certain exactly what this meant since Leah lacked the enunciation to say either "Sammy" or "Sam". His name when issuing from her mouth sounded like "say". But one way or another, if she said the word and stuck her hand in his face, she wanted him to talk to her.

So he did. Sam went from saying only "mama" and "LeeLee" directly to "LeeLee have cookie. Sammy want cookie." And after speaking his third, fourth, fifth, and sixth words ever, in sentence fragments no less, Sam reached for the treat in Leah's other hand and stuffed it in his mouth. Instead of getting angry, Leah just grinned at him with her new teeth and picked up a chocolate chip that had fallen off and munched on it happily.

When they were older, Leah doubted the veracity of such tales, but Sam believed every word. He couldn't actually remember that far back, but it certainly sounded like him, and it definitely sounded like her.

When he was old enough, he was grateful that Sue had chosen his mother's daycare for Leah. He heard someone use the phrase "like ships passing in the night" and asked his mother what it meant. He was disturbed by the idea of people coming into close contact and just barely missing one another, and he tried to imagine what his life would be like without the presence of key figures. His mother and father, of course, and LeeLee. No LeeLee was almost as unfathomable as no Mommy or Daddy. And he realized that if it weren't for the daycare, he wouldn't have known her until they both got to the tribal school.

Their mothers knew each other since every single person on the tiny reservation knew every single other person, but they weren't close friends despite having children so close in age. And despite the fact that Sue Clearwater (nee Uley) was distantly related to Joshua Uley, it wasn't as if Sue's maiden name got them invitations to the Clearwater house for dinner, nor would Joshua have gone if invited. Sue herself could never remember if they were second cousins once removed or third cousins not removed at all, nor what either of those things actually meant. Joshua had no idea and didn't care.

But thankfully, Sue had brought Leah into his life, and there was really no need to worry about LeeLee going anywhere. They had found each other, and they weren't letting go.

Sammy trailed after Leah everywhere they went. He was always big for his age and in comparison, she looked tiny. But even though he was so much bigger and an entire half a year older, there was no question who was in charge. Leah always knew what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. And she was so good at finding fun things to explore that Sam didn't hesitate to follow. If left to his own devices, he would probably have stayed unquestioningly by his mother's side when they went to the beach or played in the park. But Leah always wanted to see what was around the bend, over the hill, or under the rock. So she ran ahead and discovered things like a perfect climbing tree, a giant puddle, or the biggest grubs they had ever seen. Sammy couldn't let himself be outdone. So if she clambered up the branches, he hoisted himself up next to her. If she ran through the water, he jumped in with both feet and splashed her. If she poked the grub with a stick, he picked it up with his bare fingers. Then she might dare him to eat it, and he'd throw the squirming thing back onto the ground and they'd both shudder in delighted horror.

Things got even better when a treehouse appeared in Leah's backyard. Or rather, when Harry Clearwater, Billy Black, and Charlie Swan spent a long weekend drinking beer and trying not to nail their fingers to two-by-fours. By Monday afternoon, a surprisingly sturdy structure was settled fifteen feet off the ground, and only one of the three men had fallen out of the tree.

Leah was thrilled and Sam was ecstatic. They had both been vibrating on the ground below waiting for it to be completed. A hugely pregnant Sue leaned on the back porch and watched the two children scramble up the swinging rope ladder. Then she thanked her husband and his friends for making their little girl so happy before calling up to Leah that her about-to-be baby brother had told her to give Leah the gift on his behalf. Leah's head poked through the little window facing the house and asked, "When can he come up? I want him to see it!" Sue explained that he would arrive any day now, but that it would be years before he could climb as well as his sister. Sammy declared that no one would ever be as good a climber as Leah.

The kids stayed in the treehouse for hours that first day. They giggled when they realized that no one could get to them without the ladder and immediately pulled it up. They lowered a basket from time to time so that Harry could pass them flashlights or sticks or styrofoam cups or balls of twine, and later so that Sue could pass up sandwiches, juice boxes, and finally pillows and blankets. It was the first night they spent sleeping curled together in the treehouse, but it would not be the last.

Climbing into the treehouse was great fun, but as the weather turned cooler Sammy quickly realized that it wasn't always the most comfortable place to try to sleep. And if he wanted a calm place to go when his father was yelling or his mother was making that awful sobbing sound, the treehouse was his first stop. But often LeeLee was in her room instead of the treehouse, and he didn't want to go knocking on the front door and asking someone else for her. So he quickly realized that the roof overlying the back porch was just underneath her window, and the railing of the porch, the support studs for the roof, the adjacent trellis for Sue's plants, and the pipe that drained the gutter water were almost as easy to climb as the rope ladder.

The first time he climbed into her room, Leah heard him coming (apparently he wasn't as stealthy as he thought he was) and opened the window. She was leaning out by the time he hoisted himself onto the roof. She grinned at him, and he saw that she was already in her penguin pyjamas and had lost her first tooth since the last time he saw her two days prior. "You're a monkey!" she declared.

He frowned. "I'm not a monkey. I'm, uh, a gorilla. A big one."

"A silverback?"

Sam didn't know what that was, so she tugged him in through the window and got her animal book off her bookshelf. They made a tent out of the blankets on her bed and huddled inside the small, warm space with the book and a flashlight. Both of them fell asleep within minutes since it was well after eleven o'clock, and neither woke up three hours later when a frantic Allison called the house, nor when Sue opened the door to find a glowing lump under the sheets that was much too large to only be her daughter. Sammy did finally awaken ten minutes after that to find a tearful and disheveled Allison hovering above them. He was about to resist leaving the squishy comfort of his best friend when he spotted the sadness and fear in his mother's eyes, so he just turned back to his LeeLee to squeeze her goodbye. She mumbled something that might have been his name before rolling over, and he followed his mother home.

Two nights later, he was back in Leah's bed again.

X-x-x-x-X


	2. Family

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Chapter 2: Family

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Sammy met Emily Young for the first time when he was six and she was seven. Or rather, he saw her. Meeting her took longer.

One summer night he woke up to the sounds of breaking glass and his father's slurred speech. He hated waking up that way, and he had hoped the evening would be quiet. The day had started well. Allison had packed a picnic lunch and they had gone to the park, where Joshua taught him to throw a frisbee properly. And when he flung it high into a tree, his father had just laughed and congratulated him on his strong arm and gamely flung loose sticks at it until it dropped to the ground. He plopped the disc on Sammy's head in a failed attempt to turn it into a hat, and then they had a contest to see who could walk the farthest balancing it on their skull. Sammy won, although he was pretty sure Joshua let him. But the instant they got home, Joshua pulled a beer out of the fridge, and he didn't stop at one.

Sammy lay in bed for several minutes trying to figure out what to do. He heard his mother's voice, wavering a little but speaking in low tones and trying to calm his father. It didn't work. A string of cuss words echoed down the hallway before a loud smacking noise interrupted it. Then silence.

It was the silence that moved Sammy. He was getting used to tears and yelling and slamming doors, but not this sudden nothingness. He bolted out of bed and toward his mother. He didn't know exactly what he was terrified about, but he needed to make certain she was okay.

He ran right into the kitchen. For a second, his father didn't see him. Joshua's broad back was facing him, his shoulders heaving up and down and his fists clenched. He peered around the large man to see his mother cowering against the counter holding her hand to a bright red cheek. The remnants of a glass were scattered haphazardly across the counter. Her tearful eyes shifted from her husband's face to the wide, fearful eyes of her son. Joshua noticed her focus shift and turned toward him.

Joshua narrowed his eyes. "What did you just see?"

Sammy just blinked at his father, paralyzed. He had no idea what the correct answer was. All he knew was that his mother was upset and that it was his father's fault. And suddenly he grew angry. Allison was the sweetest and most loving person in the whole world, even more so than LeeLee. How dare his father make her so upset? Sammy clenched his own fists at his sides. He didn't know exactly what Joshua had done, but it wasn't good. "You hurt her! You hurt mommy and you didn't say sorry!"

Joshua grinned a distinctly frightening grin and took one step toward his son. "Sorry? You want sorry? I'll make you sorry!"

Joshua started to unbuckle his belt, and Sammy instinctively backed away. His father had only ever threatened him with it in the past, wrapping it around his fist, pulling it taut, flicking his wrist back and bringing it down against the wall next to Sammy's head with a resounding slap. Sammy shut his mouth then and there, not wanting to find out what it felt like against his skin.

Tonight he realized that he was about to find out. He could see it in Joshua's eyes.

Allison knew it as well. Joshua yanked the buckle open, pulled it off his pants, and raised it over his head. His movements weren't smooth in his drunkenness, but his eyes were locked on his small son.

Allison grabbed his raised arm. "Don't you dare touch him!" Her voice had never sounded so enraged, and even Sammy startled at it.

Joshua's ire refocused back to his wife. "What did you say, you sniveling whore?"

She let go of his arm and backed herself up until she hit the counter again. "Run, Sammy," she whispered.

And to his eternal guilt, he did.

It only took him a few minutes to get to LeeLee's house. He knew the path to her home better than he knew the back of his own hand, so even in the dark, with no streetlights or stars or even the moon to show him the way, he didn't hesitate at all. He scrambled up to her room and slid up the sill.

But something was wrong. LeeLee wasn't alone. There was someone else in the bed, and it wasn't her baby brother. Lying next to her was a strange girl he had never seen before.

What was he supposed to do now? He needed his mommy. He needed his LeeLee. The first was in trouble, and there was nothing he could do about it. The second was, well, what was going on? She was his best friend, and she let someone else in his spot. He didn't know what to do, so he started to back away.

Then a small, warm hand wrapped around his wrist. "Sammy?" asked a sleepy voice. "What's wrong?"

That was when he realized he was crying. He must have woken her up. He turned around to find her hanging halfway out the window. He wasn't ready to answer the question. "Who's that?"

She retracted her head and stuck her right leg out the window, then the left, and then she was squatting in front of him in her bare feet. "My cousin Emily. Or my kind-of cousin. Second, my mom said. Whatever that means."

"Like there's one older than her? She came second?"

Leah shook her head. "I don't think so. It means her mom isn't sisters with my mom. It's something more confusing. But she's here for a couple days. Remember? I told you people were coming."

He had forgotten. He pouted. He didn't want to have to share LeeLee with anybody, especially not tonight. "She's in my spot."

She shuffled forward until she could wrap her little arms around him, and she didn't complain when he dried his wet cheeks on her cotton shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "She'll get scared if you climb in the window, I know she will. She'll probably scream or cry or something. Let's go up to the treehouse, okay?"

He sniffled and nodded as she stood back up. "Bring the purple pillow." It was the squishiest one, even softer than Leah herself. He eyed her bare feet. "Your feet are gonna get pokeys in them." They had learned the hard way that the shingles were made of something prickly that left their skin itching for days.

"Yours too," she answered, and he realized that she was right. In fact, his feet were probably already scratched from sprinting between their houses in the dark without shoes. He hadn't even noticed. "Go on ahead and lower the basket."

Before she could disappear back into her bedroom, he called out, "You're coming, right?"

"'Course, Sammy. I won't leave you alone."

He made his way over to the treehouse quickly. The five or six minutes it took her to gather whatever they needed felt like twenty or thirty. He peered out when he heard a muffled thump in the yard, wondering if she had decided to jump off the roof or worse yet, had fallen, but could make out by the moonlight that she had tossed a lump onto the ground. Soon he was hauling it up with the basket, and he gratefully lugged in what he recognized as the purple pillow. "One more," she called from below. He lowered the basket again but struggled when he tried to retrieve the next load. Then Leah's head poked up above the platform, and she crawled toward him on her hands and knees. She had her pink backpack with her. "You look like a turtle," he giggled. She grinned back at him and helped him with the basket containing Harry's large sleeping bag. Then his smile disappeared and he eyed the entry. Without asking, she shucked off her pack and pulled up the rope ladder.

"Now no one will be able to sneak up on us," she explained, examining him to see if this was what he wanted.

He still didn't want to talk about what had sent him running, but he was hugely grateful to her for knowing what he needed. "Good," was all he answered.

She unzipped her pack and pulled out the contents one by one: a heavy Maglite flashlight that she had once jokingly described as being perfect for "bashing monsters in the knees", two Juicy Juice apple juice boxes, a half eaten bag of Oreos, and a pair bright pink socks with a lacy frill on the top edge. "I couldn't tell in the dark," she apologized. But to spare him the humiliation of wearing them, she pulled off her plain blue ones and handed them to him. He put them on, grateful for the warmth her feet had left behind, while she donned the pink ones. They wiggled their toes at each other and Leah grinned. Her dimples were irresistible, so he had to give her a little smile back. Then they ate two Oreos each and shared a drink box.

They quickly unrolled the bag and slid in, facing one another. Sammy thought about his mother and wished he could bring her up to the treehouse to hide from his father. A tear rolled out of his eye, startling him, but before he had the chance to be embarrassed, she yanked her sleeve down far enough to cover her hand and wiped it away. "Is your mommy okay?" she asked softly. She was so close that he felt her breath on his skin.

He just shook his head. He had no idea how to answer any more clearly than that.

"Then we'll just have to take care of each other tonight," she announced matter-of-factly. She pressed her forehead against his, and her nose against his, and clutched his hands tightly in hers.

She fell asleep before he did. He listened to the sounds of the night, so deceitfully calming, and the even rhythm of her breath, genuinely comforting, and drifted away.

X-x-x-x-X

The next morning Sam was relieved to hear his mother's voice first. He couldn't make out what she was saying, so she could not have been directly under the tree. And indeed, the sound of adults stopped abruptly with the closing of a door.

He tried to untangle himself to look outside, but his legs were entwined with Leah's and she was lying on his arm which had fallen asleep. He decided that it was a good excuse not to move. It wasn't as if he wanted to leave, after all. He would live in the treehouse if he could. If Leah would say here with him. Because here there was no fighting, no yelling, no threatening, and no fear. The only things that were thrown from the treehouse were water balloons, and the only function for belts was to keep pants from falling down. Maybe he could convince his mother to move here.

He stared at the wooden slats above his head until a door opened and closed again. At that, his LeeLee woke up and picked up her head, blinking at him with a lopsided smile. Her hair was messy and she had sleep lines on her face from lying on a fold of his shirt, but even that couldn't hide how pretty she was. "Hi Sammy."

He just hummed and stared at her in reply.

LeeLee yawned and reached out of their little cocoon to stretch her arms, and Sam felt like grabbing them and pulling them back in, burying their heads back into the bag, and zipping it shut. Harry called out from below. "You kids up there? You awake? Sammy, your mom's looking for you."

"We're up," Leah answered as she unzipped the bag. A cold draft blew across them, and she yanked the edge back down. "Geez! It's cold, dad!"

"Sun hasn't been up long," he answered. "Lower the basket. I've got your jacket, and Mrs. Uley brought Sam's."

Sam muttered, "Can we do it without getting out of the bag?"

So Leah decided to try, which resulted in the entire bag shifting to the left about one foot as she squished Sammy. Despite the events of the last night, he found himself giggling with mirth under her wriggling, laughing body. Harry started to reprimand them for taking so long, but Allison stopped him with a quiet, "Harry, they sound so happy."

But she sounded so sad that he immediately lost his smile. Leah noticed the shift as soon as it happened and stopped squirming around, choosing instead to wrap her arms around him and squeezing tightly. He didn't have a chance to return the hug before she slithered out of the bag and lowered the basket to the ground.

A minute later, they both had their jackets on and Leah was slipping her backpack on. She peered over the edge of the platform, and an unfamiliar voice wafted up. "Leah? What're you doing up there?"

"Sorry, Em," she answered without answering, instead looking back at Sam. He just frowned and shook his head. He had no interest in meeting a new person right now.

Harry sent the stranger back inside, so Sam only got a quick look at her retreating back when he leaned out. But he barely noticed her at all. Instead he stared at his mother's unusual attire. She had a decorative scarf wrapped over her head and knotted under chin in addition to the largest sunglasses he had ever seen. But it was barely light out, and she never wore scarves. He didn't even know she owned one. He couldn't see her eyes, so he was still afraid.

LeeLee grabbed his hand. "Look Sammy, she came to get you." His frown deepened, so she just said, "We'll go down together, okay?"

Allison tried to keep her head down so that Sammy couldn't see under her glasses. But it was impossible, and once they returned home, the house was so dim inside that she had to take them off in order to see. Sammy couldn't look her directly in the face. He wasn't sure if it was just due to the frightening red swelling that kept her left eye shut, or if it was actually the way she refused to look directly at him even with her good eye. She didn't take off her scarf, but he had seen under the loose edge. There was another red welt just in front of her ear.

Sammy listened for any signs of his father and nearly jumped out of his skin when the big man appeared suddenly in the open doorway. Then Joshua issued the first of a long string of apologies that would come for years. Sammy thought he had gotten good at recognizing it when someone was lying, but he didn't know what to make of his father's words. He was sent to his room despite the fact that he hadn't yet had any breakfast; Sue had kindly offered to make pancakes, but Allison had been in a rush to retrieve her son and get out. So Sammy's stomach was grumbling audibly when he reluctantly dragged his feet along the old carpeting on the way to his bedroom. He peered back several times, unwilling to leave his mother alone with his father as he had the night before; he couldn't help but wonder if there was something he could have done to stop what had happened.

He got distracted from that train of thought trying to listen through the thin walls. And he was shocked when he realized what was going on. His father was begging, literally begging, for Allison's forgiveness. He claimed that he was horrified with himself and what he had done, that he would never have believed himself capable of such a thing, and that he would do absolutely anything to win back her trust. He talked about how much he loved her, how she was the best thing ever to have happened to him, how he couldn't survive without her. He promised her that he would do better, promised he would never do anything like that ever again. He blamed stress at work, blamed the difficulty of making ends meet, blamed the alcohol. He promised not to ever touch a drop again.

Sammy thought his father sounded genuinely upset. But he didn't think his mother should forgive his father, not after what he had done. He couldn't tell if Joshua meant what he said.

But then he heard him crying. Sammy had never seen his father get choked up, let alone actually start to cry. He cautiously cracked open his door just a sliver and peered through the space. He couldn't see anything, so he stuck his head into the hall. And he would never forget what he saw next. His father was on his knees at his mother's feet, arms wrapped around her waist, face buried into her stomach, weeping into her clothes. Allison was staring down at her husband. Her hands were poised inches above his head, frozen, an expression of pure shock on her face.

Sammy shut the door, nausea rolling through his stomach. He backed up until he ran into the edge of his mattress and sat down involuntarily. He didn't move for what felt like several minutes. The sounds outside the room did not change. Eventually he spied the clock radio on his nightstand. The frisbee was lying on top. It motivated him to move so that he could throw the disc in the trash. Then he turned on the radio just to drown out the noise coming from the living room.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Babs81410. All typos are mine.


	3. First Kiss

Over the next few weeks, the bright red swelling of Allison's left eyelid faded into an angry, purple bruise, then a dull green splotch. Joshua was overly solicitous to his wife. Fresh flowers adorned the kitchen table every night, and Sammy watched his father do the dishes for a week straight. Prior to that date, he had never before so much as put his dirty plate in the sink. Sammy watched his father out of the corner of his eye, and from time to time he noticed a miserable mask of regret fall over Joshua's face. If Allison was in the room, Joshua would slowly walk to her, brush her hair out of her face, and place gentle kisses along her eyelid and in front of her ear.

Every single time it happened, Allison and Sammy both froze breathlessly and waited for Joshua to drop his hand, sigh, and leave the room.

And as the marks faded, so did Joshua's unusual mood. Sammy and Allison remained careful around him, so careful, and neither of them relaxed their guard. Sammy felt the constant need to escape his house, even when Joshua was nowhere to be found and not due to come home for hours. Allison kept taking care of her son as best she could. He never went without a meal, clean clothes, or assistance with his homework. But his mother seemed to be withdrawing into herself, and he had no idea how to stop it.

She encouraged him to see as much of LeeLee as he possibly could. When Leah came to their house, she put on a broad smile and offered them cookies and milk and acted like the mother he was used to. She asked the little girl about her parents, her baby brother, school, and anything else she could think of. But if the children wanted to go to the treehouse, or eat dinner with Sue and Harry, or run off into the woods, she never stopped them, not even if Sammy hadn't spent an evening at home for a week straight.

And so Sammy went.

X-x-x-x-X

Playing with LeeLee was a great distraction. She was great at finding things to do or inventing things when there was nothing to be found. Harry took them fishing, which they were terribly excited about until they realized that Harry, Billy, and Charlie spent most of the time drinking beer, laughing loudly, and scaring the fish away. But Sammy and LeeLee fashioned their own poles from spare line and thin branches after they failed to catch anything with the small poles that Harry had brought for them. Within twenty minutes, Sammy had caught a small steelhead. It wasn't large enough to keep, but he was infinitely proud that his makeshift pole didn't snap as the fish struggled against it, and LeeLee was as excited as if he had pulled solid gold from the water.

But half an hour later, they were a little bored until LeeLee suddenly dropped her pole onto the rocks and grasped his hand. "This isn't fun any longer," she complained to Harry. "We're gonna go exploring." And she tugged him along the river. He asked her where they were going, but she refused to say. But he was intrigued; the glint in her eye made it clear that she had a destination in mind. Ten minutes and two bends of the river later, they came upon a large set of boulders along the edge. "There it is! We found it!" she declared. "I found this a couple weeks ago, but Billy made me watch Jake because Rach and Becca refused to go fishing, and we couldn't get close because he's so little and doesn't know how to not fall in."

He climbed up first, eager to find out what was in the swirling waters below, before turning and helping her up. So his back faced the gentle eddy when she clamped her free hand over her mouth to muffle an excited squeal. He blinked quizzically at the odd gesture before she pointed down. When Sammy turned around, he saw them: two river otters playing in the protected cove. He understood immediately that they had to be quiet in order not to scare the animals away. LeeLee gingerly made her way to a large, flat rock and gestured for him to follow. They lowered themselves down to their stomachs and peered over the side. They stayed there for at least an hour, during which they also spotted two different kinds of turtles, six kinds of birds, including a huge heron, and a shiny blue-green beetle that walked slowly across LeeLee's arm. But half an hour into the excursion, Sammy stopped looking for animals and let himself stare at the dimple in LeeLee's cheek. That morning he had seen Harry place a messy kiss right onto it, causing her to make the funniest sound he had ever heard. He found himself tempted to do the same. After all, his mommy said that kisses were for people you loved, and didn't he love LeeLee more than anybody but mommy? And wasn't that dimple the most specialest spot on her face? Most people didn't even have one, but Leah had two, one on each cheek. Not to mention, he wanted to hear her make that funny sound again, part giggle, part snort, part squeal.

Instead, after mulling over his options for an overly long time he stuck his finger into it, causing her to shriek, scaring off the otters and the heron. She hardly noticed their absence. Instead, she pinned him down and tickled him mercilessly along his ribs. If he hadn't known that her secret weakness was the space between her collarbone and her neck, he might have died from lack of oxygen, he was laughing so hard. He squirmed until she lost her balance and careened toward him. He turned his head just in time to blow a raspberry into the vulnerable spot but didn't manage to catch her cheek for the kiss he wanted, and she leapt away laughing like a maniac.

Leah was as agile as she was quick. She scrambled off the rocks and along the path before he had even righted himself. He didn't manage to catch her before she made it back to where the men were waiting, and so he didn't manage to steal a kiss, nor did he cause her to make that funny noise again. Yet he still considered it a successful afternoon.

X-x-x-x-X

A month later when summer break was in full swing, he was still on a quest to kiss LeeLee's dimple. He didn't realize how hard it would be. First of all, they needed to be alone. He wasn't sure if she would like it or if she would punch him, and he didn't need witnesses to his humiliation. Second of all, he wanted to kiss the dimple, not just her cheek. And it only appeared if she was smiling just the right kind of smile. Little smiles didn't produce the dimple at all, while big ones turned the dimple into more of a line. When she laughed, it appeared and disappeared without warning. Third of all, he had to be close enough. They were together all the time, but she needed to be within a couple feet of him for it to work. A few times he had found himself alone with her and managed to draw the dimple out of hiding. But he had hesitated, and when he finally leaned forward to close the gap between them, she had stopped and wondered what was going on, and the funny little dip disappeared only to be replaced with little frown lines between her eyebrows. They didn't look like nearly so much fun to kiss, although he couldn't explain why.

To make matters worse, he was on a deadline. In two days, Emily was going to come stay with Leah, and she wasn't going to leave for three whole weeks. It was going to be an eternity. He didn't know if he'd ever get his LeeLee alone again.

So for once, he was the one to suggest they go exploring. Sue was busy trying to get Seth to eat green beans before she left for her evening shift, and Harry was in his office doing something incomprehensible and dull. He and Leah were watching a cartoon starring three animals of indeterminate species, two brothers and a sister, who were reenacting a scene from a play that Sue declared some kind of classic. It made even less sense than whatever Harry was doing, although it was much more entertaining.

During a commercial break he convinced her to go outside. It wasn't difficult. It was raining, but that only meant that there were good puddles to jump into. Sue yelled out for Leah to please try to avoid making a total mess of herself, an instruction they all knew would go unheeded. She donned her rain slicker, floppy hat, and galoshes, looking for all the world like a shiny red toadstool, covered as she was in white polka dots. He pulled on his industrial green poncho and followed her out. He thought her floppy hat might get in his way but figured he would make his way under it, and they set off down the dirt road. Their parents complained about the upkeep of the roads, but the potholes made for fabulous splashing. The deepest ones were at the foot of the hill where the water tended to pool. But when they were only feet away from a temptingly large puddle, Brian Lincoln jumped out seemingly out of nowhere.

Brian was nine, a full three years older than Leah. "That's a pretty girly looking raincoat, seeing as you're a boy, Lee," he taunted. Brian hated Leah Clearwater, and he didn't bother to hide it. A knobby oak stood behind the tribal school, and at the end of the year she had declared that she could climb to a higher branch than anyone else. Brian had laughed at her before she proved herself right and him wrong, and ever since then, he had declared her to be a boy, not a girl, and an ugly one at that.

Sam knew better. Brian was a liar. After all, LeeLee was obviously the very prettiest girl in the school, prettier than the Black twins, prettier than Lily Adams in the third grade, prettier even than Alexa Redstar in the fifth. She was a tomboy, yes, not only the best tree-climber, but also the fastest runner and the next best kickballer other than himself. But he knew every side of her. She would never pull any of the other boys into her treehouse to have tea with her stuffed animals, but she brought him. He knew they would make fun of him if they knew that he sat cross legged on the floor of the structure pretending to sip Earl Grey with her, Mr. Pickles, and Snappy (he still didn't know what Earl Grey was, but LeeLee swore it had a robust flavor). But even if they did find out, he still wouldn't give up tea time. Because the end of tea time always degenerated into a battle to the death between the stuffed animals, and he always got to play with Snappy, who was an alligator, and LeeLee conceded that Mr. Pickles the housecat was no match, although he always put up a surprisingly good fight. Better yet, Leah substituted fruit punch kool-aid for the Earl Grey, and she pilfered Sue's fancy chocolate squares as stand-ins for cucumber finger sandwiches and currant scones, neither of which sounded like they tasted any good.

Besides tea time, Leah also liked to dress up in pretty skirts and dresses, many of which she ruined by then running through the dirt and the rain. It drove Sue crazy. Sammy even allowed her to play with his hair when it grew out, although he drew the line at letting her weave flowers or ribbons through it. But he often brought her wildflowers that he found on the way to her house, and she happily stuck them in hers. He didn't tell her, but he thought she was especially pretty that way.

But whether or not she was more girl than boy, Brian hated her either way. "Hey, if it isn't a couple snot-nosed babies." He turned his sneering face at Leah. "Did your parents toss you out because they realized they have a real boy at home now? Not just a fake wannabe like you? I'll bet they wished they aborted you when they had the chance." Neither knew what this meant, exactly, but obviously it wasn't good.

"You're just a bully, and you don't scare me one bit," Leah answered immediately, swerving around him where he stood in her path.

But Brian wasn't about to let the little girl get the last word, and he wasn't leaving until she was good and afraid. Abruptly, he moved in front of her. "Not scared, huh? You should be. How'd you like it if you ended up in that hole?" He pointed at the pothole next to her.

"Shows what you know," she snorted and jumped right in, splashing him with mucky water.

Brian was incensed. "You filthy little rat!" He leaned forward and took a threatening step toward her, reaching his arms to her shoulders.

But before the bigger boy could push her down, Sammy grabbed him and twisted him around. Brian looked as shocked as he looked angry, but Sammy saw red. The bully had insulted his LeeLee and was going to hurt her. An image of his mother flashed into his brain, bruised and cowering. He might not have been able to stop his father, but there was no way Brian was going to touch Leah again.

Sammy wedged himself between Leah and the older boy. Sammy was big for his age, easily the size of an eight year old, but Brian was taller yet. Sammy didn't care. He pushed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest like he had seen his father do when he got angry, and he screamed, "Don't you dare touch her again!"

But Brian just laughed and reached out a single, mocking finger to poke Sammy in the chest. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it, you little brat?" Then he tried to reach around to jab at Leah, but before he could get to her her, Sammy grabbed his wrist and shoved it away.

"You stay away from my LeeLee!" Sammy screamed and thrust his palms out in front of him, hard. Brian went stumbling back.

The older boy's eyes were wide and furious. "You stupid little shit!" As soon as he caught his balance, he started forward again, fists clenched. Sammy braced himself for a blow. But before it landed, Leah darted around him and kicked Brian firmly in the shin. He slipped in the mud, plopping flat on his back in the muck, and as he struggled to right himself, yelling words at them that they knew he wasn't supposed to say, Leah grabbed Sammy's hand and pulled him away.

They sprinted back to her yard and scrambled up the swinging ladder to the treehouse. Sammy made sure she went first and got safely away from Brian, not minding the dirty water that dripped from her galoshes and onto him. So long as nothing happened to her, he didn't care how dirty he got. They yanked up the rope ladder and tumbled into the surprisingly dry structure.

Leah tried to peel off her rain gear but got stuck in the sleeves, then collapsed into a fit of laughter. After he helped her out of the garment and they helped themselves to the stash of granola bars she kept in the corner, she grinned at him, and the dimples appeared. But before he could crawl forward to press his lips to one of them, she shook her head at him. "You know, I could have taken stupid Brian all by myself."

He stopped on his hands and knees. This might have been the case, but she could not possibly have expected him to just sit back and watch her get threatened.

But the dimples hadn't disappeared, so she couldn't have been genuinely upset. She finished, "But thank you for your gallant behavior, good sir."

Then he was just confused. "My what?"

The dimples were gone. Matter of factly, she explained, "Daddy has been reading me a princess story every night for the past thirteen bedtimes. That's what the princess says to the knight who saves her from the dragon. We should go on a quest to find a dragon! We can kill it together and find the treasure!"

"Sure, that sounds like fun!" Then he temporarily forgot about his quest to kiss one of her dimples. Because they began to crawl around the treehouse (which was really a complicated network of caves) in search of the sleeping dragon resting upon a pile of gold.

X-x-x-x-X

By the time they had slain the dragon, he had lost his chance for a kiss. They didn't kill it that first night, and they spent most of the next day chasing each other through the woods behind her house, since the forest paths made a much better labyrinth than the treehouse. They were alone, but he couldn't get close enough to Leah to plant a kiss, plus the dimple kept winking at him before disappearing a second later.

The day after that, he didn't even bother going over to her house. He was too busy sulking that her cousin was visiting. He really didn't feel like sharing his LeeLee. But then his mother brought him along when she went grocery shopping and let him buy a bag of gummy bears, and it was pretty hard to be sad when his mouth was exploding with sweet, chewy goo.

On the following day, Allison dropped him off at Grandma Uley's house for their weekly waffle brunch. It didn't escape his notice that Grandma gave Allison an especially big hug when they arrived, and he wondered why Grandma kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them gently to his mother's belly.

But when Allison turned to leave, Grandma peered behind them at the otherwise empty porch. "Where's strawberry girl?" she asked.

"Busy," Sammy sighed. Grandma knew Leah's name, he was sure of it. But the first time he had brought her with him to meet Joshua's mother, Sue had sent her along with a small basket of the wild strawberries that grew in the forest that bordered the back of their house. They had cut up the ripe berries and eaten them on the waffles. Ever since then, his LeeLee was "strawberry girl". She really liked the nickname.

Grandma Uley instantly picked up on his bad mood. "But she won't be busy forever, right?"

"Almost a whole month," he pouted.

"Wow. A month is a long time," Grandma nodded soberly. "Did she go out of town?"

He shook his head. "No, she's home. It's just, there's somebody else there. At her house. Some girl."

"Some girl?" Grandma prompted.

"A cousin."

"And you can't go over while her cousin is there?"

"Well, not exactly," he admitted.

"Did she invite you over to see her and her cousin?"

"She said I could come over anytime."

His grandmother smiled warmly at him. "But you'd rather have her all to yourself, is that it?"

Sammy frowned and changed the subject. "I'm hungry. Can we make waffles?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Of course we can, sweetheart."

X-x-x-x-X

It turned out that he couldn't hold out longer than two more days. He didn't admit it to his mother, his grandmother, or even to himself, but he was waiting to see if she would spontaneously appear and beg him to come over and play. He wanted to know if she missed him as much as he missed her. Maybe Leah's cousin was so boring she wanted to pull her own hair out. Maybe she was so nasty that Leah wanted to pull her cousin's hair out. Maybe the other girl would want to play with the baby instead of with Leah. Or best of all, maybe some kind of emergency would cut her visit short and she wouldn't even be there anymore.

No such luck.

When he arrived, he heard Leah's voice drifting out her open bedroom window. His stomach knotted with jealousy when he heard how happy she sounded without him. But just as he was about to turn away and go home without seeing her, he realized what she was talking about. She was talking about him. He knew it wasn't nice to eavesdrop; his mother told him that if she found him hiding behind a door. But LeeLee was talking about him, so didn't that make it his business?

He spotted Sue through the kitchen window and realized there was no good place to hide on the porch, and he couldn't very well climb to the roof without everyone realizing he was there. There was only one place to go. Silently he ascended the rope ladder to the treehouse. He peeked out the little window that faced the house but immediately ducked back down. Leah was sitting on her bed right beside the open window and talking to an unseen someone, presumably the bothersome cousin. Thankfully she wasn't looking in his direction, otherwise he would have immediately gotten caught. And he wasn't ready for that yet.

A funny snorting sound drew his attention. An unfamiliar voice said, "Wait. Is this a real friend or an invisible friend?"

Leah cackled with laughter. "Sammy? Imaginary? He's a real one! Of course he's real!"

The response sounded skeptical. "Then how come I've never seen him? If he's over here so much?"

"I don't know, do you want to go find him? We can go get him and go play. Maybe find the bunnies?"

"No, it's gonna rain," Emily protested.

"So? It's always raining. What's the difference?"

"We'll get wet!" She sounded appalled at the suggestion.

"Yeah, we'll get wet! But not too wet, not if we bring the froggy umbrella."

Emily protested, "Don't get my froggy umbrella wet!"

Sam sputtered a little. What was an umbrella for, if not to get wet? LeeLee apparently felt the same. She was laughing. "You're silly, Em. It's not even raining yet, and there's so much stuff to do outside. Don't you want to go exploring? Don't you want to find the bunnies?"

"I like your room. Let's stay here. It's dry in here." Why did she want to stay in there when LeeLee knew where to find bunnies? Now he wanted to see the bunnies.

"It's boooring in here! Don't you at least want to meet Sammy?"

"I dunno..."

"Sammy's great! He's nice and he's funny and he's smart and he's awesome!" Sammy's cheeks felt hot, and he got a fluttery feeling in his chest.

"You keep saying that."

"That's because Sammy's the best!" Leah repeated.

"Yeah, but..." Emily didn't seem to have a real protest.

Sammy heard squeaking, so he snuck a peek through the window and saw Leah jumping up and down on her bed. Her pigtails were bouncing on either side of her head, and her skirt kept flying up around her waist. "And it's been days and days and days and, like, forever! I haven't seen him in forever! Let's go get Sammy and go find the bunnies!"

Leah's bouncing was apparently displacing her cousin on the bed. Another little girl scooted into view. She seemed to be having trouble keeping her balance as she sat on the moving surface, and she was frantically grabbing at some things laying across the surface. "Leah! Stop it! You're gonna squish my clothes! You're gonna squish my..."

And then Leah bounced down onto her hands and knees, playfully tackling her. This was one of Sammy's favorite games. They would jump and bounce and crash and collide, then get up and do it all again until one of them fell off the bed. Apparently Emily didn't like it nearly as much as he did. "You squished me!" she yelled.

Leah leaned back, looking sheepish, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I was just playing. Did I hurt you?"

"No. Yes!" Emily felt along her arms and legs dramatically. "Maybe not," she reluctantly admitted. "Just don't do it again."

"I'm sorry." Leah really did look very sorry. She was settling down onto the comforter, curling her arms around her legs. Sammy couldn't stand how sad she looked.

So he stood up fully, and she immediately spotted him. "Sammy! Sammy! Sammy's here!" LeeLee squealed. She jumped to her feet and clapped, but then immediately stopped, not wanting to frighten Emily again. Instead she leaned far out the window and held her arms out to him. "You're here!" Dimples appeared in each of her cheeks, and he wished he could fly over to her.

"I'm here!" he called out. "I want to play!"

"I found bunnies, Sammy! Do you want to see them?"

"Yeah! Where are they? You have to show me!"

She started climbing out the window, but Emily grabbed her leg. "What are you doing?" She looked shocked.

"Going to Sammy!" Leah pointed at him. "We have to find the bunnies! Come with us!"

Emily blinked, her jaw open wide. "That way? Out the window? You're gonna fall!"

Sammy was already halfway down the rope ladder. He heard Emily protesting against Leah's plan, and he waited impatiently on the ground as they argued. Eventually, a pair of dirty sneakers landed a foot away from him, and he looked up to see Leah peering at him from the low hanging roof. She grinned widely at him. "Hi!" Then she slid down the post holding up the roof and landed at his side.

He grabbed her hand, not caring whether her cousin was coming or not. He highly doubted it after what he had heard. "Hi. Show me the bunnies!"

She had to let go of his hand to put on her shoes, but she grabbed it again before she took off into the woods. He forgot all about her cousin. Ten minutes later, when she pointed out an elderberry bush overhanging a little hole in the ground, he recognized the hole for what it was: a rabbit den. It only took a few more minutes of searching the area to come upon the inhabitants, who were eating dandelions. That led Leah to make up a story about a family of bunnies that sounded suspiciously like Peter Rabbit. Sam embellished details of her story, which prompted her to send her fictional bunnies off onto an adventure involving a flying squirrel, which segued them into a discussion about squirrels hoarding nuts for the winter, which made them talk about walnuts, which initiated a discussion about whether brownies were better with or without nuts (they agreed that brownies were good, and nuts were good, but not together), which made them both hungry.

Their growling bellies finally urged them to go home and find food. Sammy dragged his feet a little on the way, finally remembering that her house would have the strange girl in it. In fact, he walked so slowly that Leah actually pointed it out. She wanted to know why. And despite not wanting to tell her, he did anyway. She had a way of pulling the truth from him. "I like it better when it's just you and me," he admitted, focusing on a caterpillar crawling along the forest floor.

"Me too," she answered softly.

And when he looked up at her, she was smiling at him with just the right side of her mouth. Which meant that her dimple appeared only in her right cheek. He zeroed in on it and when it didn't disappear, he leaned in quickly and pressed his lips to it.

She was soft and warm, and a little tingle swept from his mouth down to his belly. It was wonderful.

Then he ran away.

X-x-x-x-X

He hadn't managed to make LeeLee make the funny noise she had made when her father had kissed her dimple, but he wasn't exactly disappointed. He hadn't been expecting the tingle. The tingle was as good as the funny noise. Maybe even better.

On the other hand, now he was much too embarrassed to go see LeeLee again. Was he supposed to do it again? Was he supposed to pretend he had never done it at all? Was he supposed to ask her if she liked it as much as he had? He had no idea. So he avoided figuring it out by staying at home.

He was a bit disappointed that she didn't come to see him either. Or he was until he found out that Harry and Sue had apparently decided to take a couple days off work and had taken the entire family camping. They had left the day after he kissed LeeLee. Sam snorted, trying to imagine cousin Emily camping. If the girl couldn't stand to get her umbrella wet, how was she going to survive the woods? He thought it was funny until he wondered if Leah had actually asked to be taken camping just to get away from him. She wouldn't do that, would she? She was still his best friend, wasn't she?

She had to be. He didn't know what he would do without her.

But he fretted about it enough that he decided not to try anything like it again, not even if the tingly feeling in his tummy was really, really nice. Not unless she asked him to. After all, his LeeLee wasn't exactly shy about saying what she wanted.

So by the time she came back, he had resolved not to kiss her and not to think about it. Best to pretend it never happened. Instead, the day she was due to come home, he stuffed his backpack full of supplies. Allison noticed and was about to stop him, thinking that the last thing the Clearwaters wanted upon arriving home was yet another extra child to deal with, one who probably wanted to camp out in their treehouse when they all probably wanted to sleep in their beds. But then she noticed how wobbly Joshua had become after several beers that evening, saw him open the cabinet and reach for the Johnny Walker, and decided that Sammy was better off somewhere else that night. So she didn't stop him, instead kissing the top of his head as he set out the door.

He arrived an hour too early. The minivan was missing from the drive and the doors were locked. He scrambled up the porch to the roof and slid open her window before jumping in. The room was littered with unfamiliar things. Not LeeLee's things. He picked up a little mirror bordered by frilly lace, hair ties with big plastic balls on the end, and a brown plastic horse. These foreign items in her room made him uncomfortable, so he left the way he came and went to the treehouse. He pulled a juice box and a Justice League comic from his backpack and settled in to wait. He couldn't stop his knee from bouncing as he waited for her, but there was no one here to mind (Joshua couldn't stand it when he did that). He read and re-read the same page in which the Joker was taunting the Batman, over and over and over. He couldn't focus. He just wanted his LeeLee to come home.

After an eternity, she did.

He screamed out the little window as soon as he heard the car pull up and the door slam. "LeeLeeLeeLeeLeeLeeLee!"

She came tearing around the side of the house and practically flew up the rope ladder. She jumped up and down, he jumped up and down, and they grabbed at each other's arms. He wasn't certain what she was talking about; her mouth couldn't keep up with her brain. But it had something to do with peeing. Of that he was sure, particularly since once she stopped bouncing, she started doing a squirmy little dance and clutching at the hem of her shirt.

"Go to the bathroom!" he finally ordered, pointing at the house. "And then come right back here and don't leave me again!"

She flung her little arms around his neck and reassured him, "I'd never really leave you, Sammy. Not ever."

Then she disappeared over the edge. He watched her run into the house and caught a glimpse of the back of Emily's head, but that was the last he saw of her cousin that night. Despite Leah's pleading, Emily refused to step foot on the loosely swinging rope ladder or to sleep on anything other than a mattress. Sam was thrilled at her decision, and despite Sue's admonitions not to abandon her cousin, LeeLee flatly refused to sleep apart from her Sammy for another night. And since Emily balked at the notion of a boy joining a sleepover in Leah's room, Leah and Sammy fled to the treehouse, pulled the ladder after them, and refused to come down.

The next day, LeeLee was in trouble. But she declared that he was worth it. Sammy was still in the treehouse debating whether it was safe to try to ask Sue for breakfast before he went home when Sue forgot about being mad at Leah for ditching Emily for the night. Sammy hadn't thought anything of it when he heard her answer the phone, but when she came outside and gently called up to him that he was staying with them for the rest of the day and that night, his stomach fell into his feet.

He trudged slowly inside. All day long, he imagined the worst. Or the almost-worst, anyway. Sue reassured him that his mother would be fine and that she would pick him up the next day. He hardly cared about the presence of the strange girl in the Clearwater home. They ignored each other all day long. And he barely noticed when Sue left for her evening shift. No one reprimanded Leah for sticking to his side like glue, and even Emily did not say anything about the fact that Leah could hardly do anything for herself with one of her hands locked tightly with his. No one protested when she followed him up into the treehouse to curl up with him in the sleeping bag and shared her purple pillow with him. He fell asleep with his face buried in her neck.

And when Allison arrived the next day looking none the worse for wear, he breathed a sigh of relief, practically slid down the ladder, and threw himself at his mother. It wasn't until she winced and he made contact with something hard under the jacket she had loosely draped around her arm that he pulled the fabric back and saw the plaster cast she had been hiding. She smiled warily. "I'm fine, Sammy. I just fell down the stairs."

He didn't believe her. He should have waited, he realized that years later, but he was terrified and infuriated all at once. When he noticed how she had her good arm wrapped around her belly instead of around him, he yanked up her shirt before she could stop him, baring her black and blue stomach for Sue and Harry to see.

He didn't remember much after that, just a haze of tears and anger and fear. But as he lay in bed that night, wishing desperately to be back in the treehouse or LeeLee's bed instead of his own, he heard low, rough voices floating in through the wall. He recognized Sue's voice as well as his parents'. He didn't know exactly what it meant, not then, but the words, "baby" and "never" and "sorry" were repeated over and over. Finally, what was loud and clear was the sound of the front door slamming and Joshua's heavy boots as he stormed away.

Sammy hoped he would never come back. But the next morning, when he went to the table, his father was sitting there silently reading the newspaper. Sammy refused to look him in the eye or say good morning, but he was certain that Joshua didn't care.

X-x-x-x-X


	4. Second Kiss

It took Joshua three more years to leave for good, and in the interim, Allison acquired dozens more bruises, two sets of stitches, and a shoulder sling. And Sammy didn't know it, but baby Seth was the closest he was ever going to get to having a little brother. That wouldn't have bothered him much in and of itself; after all, he had LeeLee, which meant he did have Seth, and the little boy was a lot of fun when he wasn't being annoying. But every once in a while, he would spot his mother pull his frayed baby blanket out of her nightstand and bury her face in it. And that made him hate his father almost as much as the bruises.

He was conflicted, because part of him loved his father; he couldn't help it. When Joshua smiled, when he really, truly smiled, it was like a ray of sunshine parting stormy clouds. He loved music, and if the right song came on the radio, he would take Allison gently by the waist, draw her hand in his, and spin her around the room while they both laughed. Or on a clear day he would pull out his old baseball and mitt and show Sammy how to throw a perfect curve ball or knuckle ball and maybe even take him out for ice cream. Those nights he would stop by the Forks supermarket and pick up a bouquet of fresh flowers for Allison, and she would blush like a schoolgirl when he handed them to her. It was Joshua, not LeeLee or Harry or Billy, who showed him the glowworms that gave off a subtle, green light as they were curled into the moss at the base of a tree. And it was Joshua who bought him his first mountainbike and taught him how to ride it. Even LeeLee was jealous of that.

If only that man, the fun-loving, sweet, and warm one who ruffled Sammy's hair and kissed his wife on the cheek, the one Allison had fallen in love with and who loved her dearly back, was the only one who inhabited Joshua's body.

Sammy learned to stay away on the nights the other Joshua was home. Allison would have been even more terrified than she already was if she didn't know that she would invariably find her son wrapped around Leah Clearwater the next morning, either in the girl's bed or the treehouse nearby.

Emily continued to make frequent appearances as well, and thus Sam got to know her too. He never grew comfortable enough with her, nor she him, to climb into LeeLee's room when she was there. After he frightened her one night, causing her to scream bloody murder and raising the whole house, he learned not to bother opening the window if he saw two bodies lying in Leah's bed when he arrived late at night. But even if he tried not to wake them up, even if he just peeked in her window and then left without making a sound, she seemed to know when he needed her. Every single night that he crawled into the treehouse to sleep alone, he would wake with her pressed against him. Harry didn't bother trying to take back his sleeping bag; it resided permanently in the treehouse.

During daylight hours, though, Emily did learn to get somewhat used to him. She seemed to think it odd that Leah played with a boy so often. She was more at ease when Rachel and Rebecca Black came over, which did happen from time to time. Sammy tended to stumble across the group of girls while looking for Leah, and more than once interrupted frenetic, giggling whispers that cut off abruptly when he entered, only to be replaced with gales of girlish laughter on the part of the twins, and blushing on his LeeLee's pretty cheeks. He was perplexed.

But one winter break when they were eight and Emily was nine, the Black girls brought over their baby brother, their parents, and a recipe for double chocolate chunk cookies. Sarah Black taught them all how to make them, and Sam thought that when he grew up, he would eat only these cookies and nothing else. Ever. Seth agreed, eating four whole cookies by himself and covering himself in sticky chocolate. Little Jacob was more interested in smearing the warm, melted chocolate all over his sisters. He was fast and surprisingly agile, and his furious sisters couldn't catch him no matter how hard they tried. Thank goodness Leah was even faster. She was practiced at lugging squirming little brothers around and bodily wrangled him into the bathtub, where both he and Seth were effectively hosed down.

Leah was good at replicating Sarah's cookie recipe. Sammy wasn't dumb enough to say so, but they were even better than Grandma Uley's chocolate chip cookies, and when little Strawberry Girl brought them with her when she joined them for brunch one day, Grandma even said so herself. And LeeLee quickly understood that whenever he appeared in her doorway asking to make cookies, these were the ones he wanted and moreover, that he wasn't up for a breathless chase in the woods. On the days Sammy wanted cookies, what he really needed was a hug, and he wouldn't talk about whatever had happened at his house that sent him running to hers.

When she was nine, Leah became proficient at making the cookies. It was a thrilling and an awful year.

The thrilling thing, the absolute highlight, was his second kiss with LeeLee. They had both ignored their first kiss as if it had never happened, although both of them thought about more than either would ever admit. Leah thought that Sammy must have hated it since he fled immediately and neither mentioned it or ever tried anything like it ever again, which was a shame since after her initial surprise, she realized she really liked it. Sammy was terrified he had made a huge mistake and thought that if he ever tried it again he might lose her for good.

It was actually Becca Black who made him realize he was wrong. Overall, it was a pretty terrific day. Instead of sitting in the boring schoolhouse, staring out the window, and wishing he and Leah weren't trapped inside, they were on a field trip to the Museum of Flight in Seattle. All the third, fourth and fifth graders were there. He had entered the huge hangar and was immediately in awe. There were more planes than he had ever seen before, many suspended in mid air. And they weren't just commercial airliners. He saw fighter jets, helicopters, old fashioned propeller planes, sea planes, and gliders. There were more types of planes than he knew existed.

Then they were ushered into a brightly colored workroom and given the task of making balsa wood planes. The Black twins entertained themselves by ducking beneath the worktable one at a time and trying to trick the docent into thinking they were only one person. Between them they didn't finish one plane, let alone two. He took his time making his and was the last one to finish. He was being extra special careful, because he had once glued his fingers together, and he didn't want to do it again. By the time he was done, everyone else (minus Becca and Rach) was lining up to throw them. He watched Leah's fly farther than Austin Bruce's, which drove Austin crazy, and then his own flew past even hers. Sammy wouldn't even have noticed that he won if she hadn't cheered for him. He barely even noticed the results of the competition, although he did like the little gold medal they gave him for making the best plane. Because before they left, they were all going to get a turn on the hang gliding simulator. He could hardly wait.

When it finally came time to use the simulator, Sammy bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as he tried to be patient waiting for his turn, shifting from foot to foot. Leah was right in front of him and she was excited too, but not as much as he was. She giggled watching him squirm. But when, after an eternity, it was finally her turn, instead of letting the guide strap her in, she stepped aside and pushed him forward. "Can Sammy can have my turn and his too?"

The docent turned to their teacher, but she was busy keeping Austin from getting into a fight with the little third grader Paul Lahote, so the docent shrugged and let him have two turns.

It was awesome. The young man harnessed him up so he was hanging horizontally mid-air underneath a bright red hang glider, and the huge screen in front of him displayed a baby blue sky over a lush, green valley. Then the wind machine turned on, and he felt like he was flying. The machine tipped, tilted, and swayed, and the air passing over his skin made him feel like he was going a hundred miles an hour.

When his two turns were over and he was back on his feet, he turned to Leah. Her smile was even broader than his own. Then he realized she wouldn't get a chance to try out the machine, and his face fell. She knew without him saying a word, and her smile softened, causing the dimples to appear in her cheeks. "I like it when you're happy, Sammy. It makes me happy too."

He grabbed her hand and returned her smile, and her eyes sparkled. And then Becca, who had just recently discovered the joy of both knock-knock jokes and puns, called out, "You're standing under mistletoe!" They both looked up in confusion. Sammy figured out what Becca meant before Leah did. There was a fighter jet suspended directly above them with its weapons bay open and a missile hanging down.

Rachel groaned loudly and rolled her eyes. She was getting a little sick of her sister's new obsession with wordplay. "Oh, that's awful. That's the worst one yet. A missile getting towed? Really? That's not even what's going on up... Ow! Hey!" She rubbed her arm, stinging from Becca's slap.

Becca hissed, "Shut up!", pointedly looking at Sam. Upon realizing she had his attention, she flailed her hands toward him comically, pointed up at the jet, and then pointed at Leah. He just gawked at her, so she puckered her lips dramatically and gestured at Leah.

His best friend was still staring up at the jet and wondering what all the fuss was about. Then she shrugged and looked over at him. Maybe it was because of Becca's suggestion, maybe it was because of the little quirk of Leah's mouth as she smiled, maybe it was because he was feeling invincible that day. Whatever the reason, he leaned in before he could stop himself and pressed his lips to hers.

She was even softer than he remembered, and sweeter, and she tasted like bubblegum. His lips tingled in a way that they never did when he kissed his mommy, just like they did the first time he kissed her.

When he leaned back, she was smiling at him, and she looked prettier than he had ever seen her. And that was saying a lot, because she was his definition of pretty.

Snickering broke through his reverie. He glanced off to the side and found Austin making a face at them. "Eww! That's disgusting!"

Jared Cameron stuck out his tongue. "Gross. Now Sam's got cooties!"

Austin shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "No. It's way worse. He's got herpes now! He's gonna get, like, boils all over his face, and they're gonna explode, and if he's lucky, he'll die before he starts looking like a troll!"

Everyone around them gasped in shock. None of them had any idea what herpes was, but it sounded frightening and terrible. Sam would have been embarrassed, but Leah strode right up to Austin. "So I've got some awful disease, huh?"

He looked surprised at her boldness, but he straightened to his full height of four foot nine inches and glowered down at her. "Yeah, you do. I know about it because Mom said some skank gave it to my Dad when he was all up on her." Now it was the teachers' turn to look shocked, and they tried but failed to shush Austin.

Leah plowed ahead. "So how come I'm not covered in boils? Do I look like a troll to you?"

Austin's confrontational stance faltered for a moment, because he too thought Leah was the prettiest girl in school (which was why it drove him so crazy that Sam kissed her. Kissed her! Kids their age didn't even hold hands, let alone kiss each other! If he had known it was a possibility, then he would have done it himself!). But he recovered and sneered, "Yeah. You're an ugly troll."

She just nodded thoughtfully. "And I can turn boys into trolls too, right? I'm contagious?"

"Sam probably only has days to live. Maybe even hours," Austin insisted absurdly. He was in too far to back out now.

"Right then." And before he realized what she was doing, she took a long, messy lick of her palm and smeared her spit all over his cheek. "Now you're in for it too!"

She sniffed and tossed her long hair over her shoulder as she marched away from him. Austin would have given her a good pummeling, girl or not, crush or no crush, if the teacher's aide hadn't grabbed him back. Leah made a beeline for Sammy, but she was pulled aside by their own teacher before she could get there and given a little talking to. Sam couldn't hear what words were exchanged over the gasps and crowing of the crowd around them.

But whatever they said didn't matter, because soon they were on their way home. And not only did he get to sit by his LeeLee, he got to hold her hand, too.

X-x-x-x-X

If only that had been the end of it. But Austin didn't forgive or forget. Instead, he decided to punish Leah and Sam for his humiliation. Leah hardly cared; he was just a jealous bully who didn't mean anything to her. Sam, however, started taking flak not only from Austin, who really didn't matter, but all the boys who rallied around Austin. Before that time, Leah was always his best friend, but it didn't keep him from playing kickball or t-ball or soccer with whichever boys were running around outside at the time. Partly since Leah also played all those games, but still. But he didn't need her around to play with them, and he had a good time.

Until the kiss. Then he found himself being picked last (Last!) for schoolyard games. Him, Sam Uley! Tallest, fastest, and most coordinated boy in the tribal elementary school. Until the day he sat down at his usual lunch table, which normally fit Leah and the Black twins on one end and Austin, Johnny Blackfist, and Bobby Sterling on the other, and all three boys stood up and walked away. He tried to ignore their muttered insults as they left, but rejection churned in his gut.

Still, it wasn't as if he needed Austin, Johnny, or Bobby to get through his day. Not like he needed his LeeLee. It all probably would have blown over if it wasn't for his father.

Every morning that he stayed in his own bed instead of Leah's, his mother woke him up with a mug of hot chocolate on his nightstand and a kiss on the forehead. So one rainy Monday morning, when he woke up at eight sixteen to the muffled sound of sniffling instead of the scent of cocoa, he knew something was wrong. He silently crept out of his room and peeked down the hallway. A deep snort and snuffle radiated from the living room. His father was out there snoring instead of heading out the door to work. He turned in the other direction and peeked in the bathroom, its door cracked ajar.

His mother was seated on the closed toilet lid gingerly wrapping a swollen, red ankle with an ace wrap. She winced as she touched a tender spot, which started a fresh round of tears rolling down her cheeks.

It wasn't Allison's swollen, red eyes, the moisture pooling on her upper lip, her bottom lip clenched tightly under her upper teeth, or even the purple handprints visible on her exposed forearms that caused Sammy to see red. It was the frank despair etched all over her face as her eyes met his.

Sammy flew back down the hall, grabbing the only weapon he found on his way, a piece of driftwood that had been carved into the shape of a wolf which sat on the coffee table. Sammy didn't know it, but he was screaming. Fortunately or unfortunately, Joshua was still drunk enough that the shrieking sound wasn't enough to wake him. So he didn't have his hands up when Sammy landed on his chest. He only woke up to the pounding sensation of Sammy bringing the base of the wood down against his skull.

Sammy was strong for a nine year old, but Joshua was no weak old man, not even inebriated and half unconscious on a Monday morning. And the base was only lightly glued to the wolf. It snapped on impact, although it left a nice little gash in Joshua's skull before he grabbed it and threw it across the room, where it put a hole in the television.

Sammy was still screaming, his face red with rage. He tightened his hands into fists and began to artlessly pound them into his father's chest, arms, and face.

It didn't last long. With a single, angry swipe of his arm, Joshua backhanded Sam across the face and sent him flying into the coffee table. He slid off onto his back, stunning his right shoulder. His father's angry face appeared above him. He had seen this face in his nightmares, but it was always hovered over his mother, not over him. Not today.

"You fucking little ungrateful shit!" Spittle landed on his face, and the rank smell of old beer and stale cigarettes filled his nostrils. Blood was streaming down the side of Joshua's face. "I'm gonna fucking end you!"

And then Joshua's knee was in his gut, holding him down, and his father's large hands went around his neck. He was trapped with no way to get air. Sam grabbed in futility at his father's wrists, but he was immovable. He clawed at Joshua's face, but the big man just leaned back out of his reach. He felt his lungs burning, and spots started swarming before his eyes. He felt the drip of Joshua's warm blood land on his chin. But just before his vision faded, he heard a shrill screech, and his mother flew into his field of vision.

He heard a loud clang, and suddenly Joshua was gone. Sammy rolled over to the side and took in choking gasps. As soon as he had the strength, he pushed himself onto his hands and knees and turned back to his parents. Joshua was kneeling on top of Allison, who was failing to shield herself with a cast iron frying pan. The bigger man simply ripped it away and tossed it behind him, where it shattered the only family portait of the three of them that Allison had ever managed to get them to sit for.

Allison was in the exact same position Sammy had been in moments before. Joshua had her pinned firmly beneath him, and he was strangling the very life out of her. Sammy knew instantly that if he didn't do for his mother what she had done for him, it would all be over. The world would come apart at the seams. He grabbed for the frying pan, narrowly avoiding slicing his feet open on the broken glass on the floor. But his blow glanced off Joshua's shoulder with as much effect as a mosquito.

He sprinted for the his parents' bedroom and flung open the closet. There it was. His father's shotgun leaning against the wall. It practically came up to his shoulder. With shaking hands, he grabbed it and checked the barrel. Empty. He cussed for the first time in his life and reached up. He could barely reach the shelf above Joshua's shirts and pants, but he wasn't tall enough to reach the box of shells. He could see it, just inches away, taunting him, and heard his father's vile words from the living room. But he didn't hear his mother, and it terrified him. He finally raised the long gun and used it to knock down the box of shells, scattering them all over the floor. He grabbed two and loaded the unwieldy gun as he sprinted back down the hall. Joshua didn't see him coming. He approached from behind.

And then he held the barrel to the back of his father's head and flipped the safety switch. "Let her go." He tried for a yell but out came a bare whisper.

Joshua's froze, and then his hands released Allison's neck and slowly rose into the air. "Is that what I think it is, son?"

"Y-Yeah," Sammy's voice shook.

Joshua's voice was low and frighteningly calm. "Then you'd better be careful with it. Don't want any of that shot go to through me and into your mama, do you?"

Sammy glanced down at Allison. She was coughing and gasping, but she hadn't yet opened her eyes. "No."

"Then why don't you back up a few feet and we'll get that thing pointed away from her, huh?"

Sammy froze. He didn't know what to do. He wondered what his father's face looked like in that second. He couldn't imagine how someone could be so enraged one second and sound so calm the next. He didn't move, so Joshua repeated his words softly. Finally Sam straightened up, but kept the barrel of the gun trained on his father. He inched backward until he hit the wall.

"I'm going to stand up." It was a statement, not a question.

"Okay," Sammy whispered.

Slowly, carefully, Joshua stood and turned to face him. His eyes were shockingly sober and frighteningly blank. "What now?"

Allison coughed and gagged from her position on the floor as Sammy trembled in place, staring at his father. He had no answer.

"Sammy," Allison croaked. "Put it down, baby."

But he didn't. He couldn't move.

"Listen to your mama." Joshua's eyes flicked between the barrel of the gun and his son's terrified face.

Sammy couldn't stand to look at his parents any longer, so he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember to breathe. He heard the sound of scraping, and he tightened his finger on the trigger. But he didn't squeeze.

"Sammy?"

He blinked his tears away and found his mother at his side. She placed her hand on top of his and gently worked the gun out of his hands. He let her, and she opened the barrel and let the shells drop to the ground. He stared at them while she ran her fingers over his skin, checking his neck and his cheek, which were beginning to bruise.

Her voice was as sharp as a dagger, and almost as deadly. "Look what you did to him!" she hissed at Joshua.

"I'm... I..." Joshua sounded flat, and as Allison moved away from him, Sammy couldn't bear to watch either of his parents any longer. He drooped against the wall and stared at his feet. "I can't believe... I can't believe I did that. Oh god, I..." Then Joshua began to repeat himself over and over. He sounded like he was waking up, his voice sounding sharper and more distinct with each repetition. "I'm so sorry." And then it sounded like a plea. He sounded sincere, but didn't he always? Sammy tried to hold on to his anger, but he didn't have anything left. No fear, no sorrow, no hate, and no love.

Then Joshua sounded muffled. Sammy glanced up from his toes and saw his father on his knees, face buried in his mother's stomach, weeping. But Allison pushed against his shoulders and bent down to whisper in his ear. Sammy wasn't meant to hear it, he was certain, but it was a small room, and he wasn't very far away. "I can forgive you for hurting me, but our son? Never."

And then the greatest lie, because Joshua believed it to be true. "I don't... But I... I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry. I... What have I done?"

Words were useless now, and Joshua's were meaningless. They might as well have been random syllables strung together. She pried his arms off her and took Sammy by the hand, limping back into the bathroom, where she shut and locked the door. Systematically she examined his injuries, breathing a sobbing gasp, either of relief when she realized that no permanent physical damage was done, or despair that anything had happened at all, he wasn't sure. He didn't even need to see a doctor.

The same could not be said for her. "We need to go to the hospital," Sammy insisted.

"It's okay, baby. You're gonna be alright. He's never coming near you again," she promised. He had no idea why she thought this was the case, or how she planned to ensure his safety.

"Not for me, for you!" He gestured at her body, bruised from head to toe.

She shook her head. "I'll be fine. I'll be fine."

"You can barely walk!" he pointed out. He didn't know much, but he was certain that the small beige wrap she put on her ankle was little better support than her socks, and her voice was hoarse from being strangled. "You need a doctor!"

"Doctors cost money," she sighed. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. "And we need to save our money if we're ever..." She shut her eyes firmly against the tears brimming behind her lids. He had never really thought about it before, but his father rationed out cash like it was water in the desert. Once a week, Joshua handed Allison a small pile of bills, and no matter what, that was all she got. It didn't matter if holes formed in her shoes, if Sammy had outgrown his pants to the point that his hem ended at mid calf, it didn't matter if her car ran out of gas three days before. She got as much as Joshua felt like sparing her, and it was never enough.

"Then let's go to Sue's, she'll help you out. She's a nurse," he insisted.

Her eyes blazed. "I have a little bit of pride, don't I? I'm not going begging for help that I can't afford." Her brief-lived fire left as quickly as it had come. "Anyway, it's just a sprain. It's not broken. Nothing's broken. It'll all heal. I always do, don't I?"

Sammy was terrified that the next time, she wouldn't. Or that he wouldn't. But he didn't know how to say it, or what good it could possibly do.

After too long, but not long enough, they exited the bathroom. The house was empty.

"Where'd he go?"

His mother sighed, looking at the blood on the couch and the floor. "He needed stitches. I think he went to the hospital."

Sammy didn't bother asking why they could afford stitches for Joshua, but not treatment for her.

He didn't want to go to school that day, and Allison wasn't about to make him. At the end of the day he couldn't remember a single thing he had done since the altercation that morning. The only thing he remembered was that at four thirty seven, a knock sounded at the front door. He jumped, but didn't know why. Joshua wouldn't knock on his own front door.

The concerned, soft voice of his best friend was a balm. "Is Sammy here?"

"How nice of you! Go on in, sweetheart. He's in his room. But you can't stay long today, okay?"

Leah agreed. She knew when not to push. But then she was there in front of him, holding out a tin. He smiled despite himself, but he couldn't raise his eyes to look her in the face. He stared at the tin. He knew what he wanted to be inside.

"I brought you something," she said. "I missed you today."

"I missed you too." His voice sounded much more like that of a frog's than he would have liked.

She shook the tin. "Come on, open it!"

He took it from her, popped it open, and inhaled deeply. "Thanks, LeeLee."

"You're welcome." She sat down next to him on his bed and reached for one of the cookies, taking a bite. "Do you wanna talk, or do you wanna eat?"

He reached for it, but then winced as his throbbing shoulder protested. Her eyes widened in concern, but he resolutely shoved a still-warm double chocolate chunk cookie into his mouth. "Eat," he muttered around the delicious treat, and then he finally looked at her. She smiled softly at him, and there was chocolate smeared on her bottom lip, crumbs on her chin, and flour in her hair. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of her looking so messy despite the neatly pressed skirt and button down shirt she wore, which had somehow escaped the onslaught of baking.

"Sorry they're so funny looking." He peered into the tin. Not one of the cookies was shaped like a circle. She had placed them too close together, and they had melded together into blobs.

He couldn't have cared less. "They taste really, really good."

She beamed at his assessment, and then she ate another cookie. But when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds and sent its rays to illuminate his skin, her jaw dropped open. "You got hurt!"

He shuttered himself against her concern. He couldn't handle her anxiety over him. He could barely handle himself. "It's fine."

"It's not fine, it looks like it hurts! What happened?" She reached out to touch his bruised cheek, but he flinched away.

He couldn't bring himself to tell her. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to make it more real than it already was by giving it voice. He just wanted to forget about it, or better yet, will it out of existence.

"Nothing," he repeated coldly.

She took the hint and dropped her hand. "Okay," she nodded. But it was too late. Her eyes were filled with worry for him. He could hardly stand it. He didn't want her to think he was anything other than strong. But then again, if he was strong, really and truly strong, he would have protected his mother better. He was a fool. A weak one, at that. What he wouldn't give to be strong enough to fight off his father with his bare hands.

Allison cleared her throat from the hallway. "Thanks for bringing those over, sweetheart. It was very nice of you. But I think you'd better get on home now."

He ventured a surreptitious glance at Leah. She didn't want to go; it was written all over her face. But she obeyed. "Will I see you in school tomorrow?"

His mother answered for him as she ushered Leah out of the house. "Of course. Say hello to your mom and dad for us, okay?" And then she was gone.

That night, he wanted nothing more than to crawl in her window and into her bed. But he kept hearing his mother's footsteps moving slowly down the hall, pausing in front of his door, and then moving on. He didn't know if she wanted to talk to him or if she just wanted to know if he was there. Twice, at least, she opened the door a crack before sighing and walking away. So he stayed, although he hardly slept at all.

Around two in the morning, he was on the verge of finally falling asleep when he heard the front door open and close. His parents' muffled voices weren't clear enough for him to understand exactly what they were saying, but the sound of crying was unmistakable. It was coming from Joshua, but his mother sounded cold as ice. It frightened him nearly as much as the violence had. He buried his head under his pillow in an attempt to drown out the noise, but he couldn't erase the sound from his memory.

The next morning he was exhausted on every possible level. He trudged slowly into school and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. But Leah, whose desk was right in front of his, turned around as soon as he entered. There was no way to avoid looking at her; she was too close.

She was beaming since she was thrilled to see him. She looked at him as if his very presence gave her joy, because it did. This comforted him a little bit, because it was how he felt about her as well. She said she was so happy to see him there, and then she launched into a story about Seth trying to stuff four marshmallows in his mouth at once the night before. But looking at his LeeLee's smiling face, he wished he could return to the world she lived in, the bright and shining place where wonders lay around every corner and love was pure and good. But the world wasn't the warm, loving place Leah thought it was. It never had been, and it never would be. Joshua himself had declared his love for Allison just hours ago. Was that was love was? Her naiveté made anger coil in his gut. How could she laugh like nothing had happened? How could she expect him to smile back? She saw the furrow of his brow and the hard set of his jaw, and her smile faltered.

Why should he love her when loving only brought anybody pain?

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to my beta, Babs81410.


	5. Push and Pull

A/N: The next few chapters (and the story in general) continue to be very angsty. If you would like to know the direction in which this is headed so that you can figure out if you want to stick it out, just message me or ask in a review, and I'll let you know.

X-x-x-x-X

Everything began to dissolve when Sam had to explain away the bruises on his face. He had found a turtleneck at the bottom of his dresser to cover his neck, but there was nothing to do about his cheek. The teacher called him to the front of the room, and he burned with humiliation. He felt every set of eyes in the entire room piercing his back while the teacher examined his face and asked what had happened. For some reason, he felt the need to involve his father in the fabrication, but rather than putting him at fault, he decided to talk about the version of his father that he liked. And like most good lies, it contained some truth. He told his teacher that Joshua had taken him mountainbiking over the weekend (which actually had happened the week before), but that he had hit a loose rock on the trail and landed hard against a log (which had happened the summer before, although he had bruised his hip and not his face). He played up his father's insistence on wearing a helmet (a baldfaced lie), and the teacher solemnly nodded and agreed that it was a good thing his father was watching out for him.

Then he turned back to his desk and saw Leah staring at him with disbelief in her big brown eyes, and he got angry. Why did she have to come by last night? Why did she have to know each and every little thing about him? How was it any of her business, anyway? She was going to break his cover, and then everyone would know!

As he passed her desk, she reached out for his hand. Normally he would have squeezed it before sitting down. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and took as wide a berth around her as he could and settled into his seat. She shrank in on herself a little, and he smashed down his instinct to hug her (and, better yet, to let her hug him).

Things only got worse at lunchtime. While he stood in line to get his food, he glanced around in what he hoped was a surreptitious fashion to see if Austin, Johnny, and Bobby had rejoined the table. They hadn't, but instead were seated with Roy Jameson. He was torn. He liked his LeeLee much more than he liked the boys, but he was getting sick of being picked last for kickball, and today was going to be even worse. They were supposed to play dodgeball in gym that afternoon, and he didn't relish the idea of being singled out as a target.

He tried to be inconspicuous as he headed toward LeeLee's table, but he had to pass Austin on the way. Willing himself to be invisible didn't work, and it didn't help that Leah stood up with a bag of her double chocolate chunk cookies held high in the air, grinning at him. Why did she have to be so obvious? He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than he already had.

"Going to sit with your _girlfriend_, Uley?" It sounded like a swear word coming out of Austin's mouth.

Sam froze. He knew what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to ignore Austin, or maybe say something clever back and walk away. Instead he got mad.

He muttered, "She's not my girlfriend."

Now Roy was in on it too. "Oh yeah? Then how come we've all seen you kiss her? It was gross."

"Yeah," Austin nodded smugly. "She's just a slut, you know."

Sammy's eyes widened. He didn't know exactly what it meant, but his father yelled it at his mother in drunken slurs. Whatever it was, LeeLee wasn't one. He looked at her. Her face had fallen, and she had lowered the bag of cookies. Why wasn't she defending herself? Why wasn't she running over and putting Austin in his place?

Because she was waiting for him to do it. Why, on today of all days, wasn't she going to fight her own battles? Why couldn't he be left out of it? He looked down at Austin, who took advantage of Sam's pause and went in for the kill. "Anyway, if she's not your girlfriend, we all know why you kissed her. It's to try to prove you're not a faggot. But we all know you must be, because who else would hang out with the girls so much? I'll bet when you go to her house you're trying on her dresses, stupid faggot."

Everyone gasped, and Jared Cameron in the third grade actually tripped on a loose tile as he gawked at the scene. Leah's jaw dropped open. Sammy looked between her and Austin, not knowing what to do. Punch the little punk? But then what would he do? Go sit with LeeLee and the girls and spend the rest of his life being called a faggot? He got angry. Everything was going wrong all at once, and he didn't know how to fix it.

Then he heard snickering behind him. He turned around, and all the little kids were laughing at him. Stupid Paul Lahote was pointing at him. The humiliation was the last straw.

He stomped up to Leah, grabbed the proffered bag of cookies out of her hand, threw them on the ground, and ground them into crumbs under the heel of his shoe. "Get it straight, Clearwater, you're not my girlfriend. I don't like you and I don't want you. Stop following me around and making my life so complicated. I've tried to be nice to you since we go way back, but I'm not interested in giving out charity anymore." Her mouth was wide open but silent; her eyes huge and hurt. He hated the look of shock and betrayal on her face, so he slammed his tray on the table, the sudden smacking sound making her jump in surprise, and he turned his back and stormed right out of the cafeteria, down the hall, and into the yard, where he leaned against the brick wall, slid down, and buried his face in his knees.

But before he could release the tears that were building up behind his eyes, he heard clamoring from down the hallway. He stood up hastily, just in time for Austin, Johnny, Bobby, and Roy to pour out of the school. "Oh man, did you see that?" Roy was excited.

Austin crowed, "What a burn!"

"You showed her, didn't you?" Roy added.

Sammy was totally confused. One moment they were ridiculing him, and the next, he was being praised like some kind of hero. What was going on?

"She's so stuck up," Austin added. "We've been waiting for somebody to put her down, but usually she just..."

"She doesn't stay down," Johnny explained. Sammy didn't miss the grudging admiration in his voice.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You guys just have a crush on her, that's all, and you're mad 'cause she doesn't like you back."

Austin and Roy protested heavily and turned their sights on Bobby. Sammy didn't know what to do, but they were no longer gunning for him, and that was something.

And that afternoon, Johnny was made captain on his dodgeball team and picked Sammy first, before even Austin. LeeLee was on the opposite side, crouching directly across from Sammy. She was good at the game. Really good. She had a wicked arm, and not once had he ever seen her throw like a girl.

She eyed him warily, and he eyed her back. Then the whistle blew, and she immediately darted off. Thank goodness, because he really didn't want to hit her. She was some kind of sprite, almost impossible to strike, and the few that managed to hit her she somehow caught. She hit Johnny in the shoulder almost immediately, causing him to moan in protest as he dragged himself to the bench. Austin tried to hit her, but she shifted just millimeters out of the way. Sammy got Rachel in the knee, but Bobby, who was on Leah's team, grabbed the ball as it was rolling away and threw it at Becca, who didn't mind joining her sister on the bench at all. A couple minutes later, Sam resisted the urge to smile when Leah took Austin out herself.

Soon the only players left were Sammy and Leah, facing each other off on opposites sides of the red line. Sammy had a ball in each hand, and she had one held in both hands in front of her. She was right there, knees bent, torso tilted forward, ready to spring. Waiting for him. Her eyes were steady and sad, locked on him.

Austin yelled, "Get her, Sam!"

"Take her down!" Roy added.

The gym teacher tried unsuccessfully to shush them.

Leah glanced down at her feet. There was another loose ball right there. He wondered why she didn't pick it up. She was really good at shielding herself with a ball in her left hand while she used her right to throw. She stared at it for a second, then straightened up, ignoring it. She pulled her right arm back slowly, leaving her body undefended, and giving him plenty of time to throw one of his balls directly at her stomach. He was certain it was deliberate.

She took the hit without flinching, without bothering about any pretense of jumping out of the way, and his team erupted in cheers. He turned to them and gave them a false smile and pumped his fist in the air, and she narrowed her eyes at him, waiting to see what he would do next, if anything. It wasn't the first time he tagged her out in gym class, but normally, he would follow it up with a little handshake and a "Good game!" like baseball players did on television at the end of a game.

Instead, he grinned at his teammates. "Serves you right, Clearwater!"

As he turned his back on his best friend, she let loose her ball with all her might. It caught him squarely in the back of the head and knocked him off his feet, but he stumbled without falling. The boys started yelling at Leah, but she just approached the gym teacher and said, "Sorry. It won't happen again."

Sammy was enveloped with pats on the back and congratulations for winning. He peeked over his shoulder to see Leah being reprimanded by the teacher, and she turned toward him.

He snapped his eyes away as soon as her glittering eyes met his, shame crawling through his belly.

X-x-x-x-X

He was too embarrassed to visit her that day or the next, but he had just about reached his limit. During the school day, he was welcomed into the boys' circle, while Leah was protectively sheltered by the Black twins, who glared daggers at him whenever he was foolish enough to look in their direction. In class, where he sat right behind her, it was impossible not to look at her. But while she normally spent as much time with her back turned to the teacher while chatting with him or drawing pictures in the margins of his notebooks, when she always partnered with him on projects or spent their free hours by his side, now she resolutely refused to even look at him.

So he stared miserably at her sleek hair. He had never wanted to touch it more than he did now. He knew its texture, silky and soft and smooth. He wanted to bury his face in it like he did when he snuggled against her back as they slept.

He only lasted three days, which was as long as he could go without her. Joshua had been in and out of the house briefly at least once a day but didn't seem to be sleeping there. He had no idea what was going on with his parents, and he wasn't certain he wanted to know. After his mother tucked him in Thursday night, he waited impatiently for her to go to bed as well. He pushed his covers down with his feet, yanked them back up, covered his head with them like a tent, and rolled over and back, again and again, until an hour and a half later, he finally heard the shower turn off, the hair dryer turn on, and then, silence.

After another half hour, at which time he was certain she'd be asleep, he slid open his window and silently dropped to the ground. They lived in a little ranch cottage, and it wasn't far down. In minutes, he was hoisting himself up to Leah's window. By the time he had it open, she was awake and staring at him silently.

They just looked at each other. He was a coward. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He just sat on the end of her bed with his legs tucked under him and waited for her to speak.

"I didn't think you were coming anymore," she said.

"I can't sleep," he explained.

She admitted, "Me neither."

He wanted her to flip the covers back in a signal that he could crawl in. But she didn't. She just looked at him.

"I don't know if we can still be friends at school," he finally said.

She frowned, and he stared at the little furrow in her brow. He wanted it gone. "At school?"

"I don't know how to not be friends. I just don't know if we can be friends there."

She sounded incredulous. "So we're not friends anymore?"

"No! No," he protested. He didn't know what he would do if she wasn't his friend at all. "Of course we're friends. You're my very best friend." It didn't seem like enough of a description. She was more than that, but he couldn't put it into words, so he didn't bother to try.

A little smile turned up her lips. "You're my best friend too, Sammy." When he didn't argue, she scooted toward him so that her knees touched his.

He admitted, "I don't know how not to be your friend."

"Me neither. So everything's okay now?" she asked hopefully, her dimple appearing in her right cheek. He had no idea why she was so ready to forgive him, but he'd take it.

"Mostly," he said. Then he took a deep breath and looked at his own hands, curled into fists in his lap. "But I think we need to pretend we're not. At school. Just at school. Not when it's just us."

He didn't need to look up to know the dimple had disappeared, and it crushed him. He made her sad, and he hated himself for it.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Secret best friends," he mumbled, hoping she'd understand. He needed her, couldn't be without her, but he needed things to be easier at school since they couldn't be easier at home. "When we're alone."

"That's not a thing," she said flatly.

He nodded in protest, still not raising his eyes. "Sure it is. Or if it's not, we'll make it one."

A puff of air left her chest. "No we won't."

"Why not? We can do whatever we want! We have plenty of other secrets!" He was too ashamed to speak them out loud, but she knew what he meant. She always knew what he meant. Why couldn't she understand him now? He finally ventured a look at her.

She was mad. "If we're not friends in front of other people, we're not friends at all."

His heart fell into his stomach. "Why not? We've kept secrets before."

She shook her head again. "Not from each other. Never from each other."

"This isn't a secret from each other, it's a secret from the stupid kids at school!"

Now the dimple wasn't just gone, her bottom lip was trembling and her eyes were shiny, but not in a good way. "This is you being mean to me during the day, but wanting me to be nice to you anyway. That's not friends. It's the opposite."

He wanted to strangle himself the way his father had done. But for some reason, he didn't stop himself. "That's not it at all! I just can't keep having the boys call me names and stuff!"

"Who cares what they think?"

"I do!" He had no idea why he did, but it was the truth.

She closed her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Just one. "What about what I think?" she whispered.

"What you think is more important," he admitted.

She opened her eyes again, and she looked so hopeful that his heart hurt. "Then we'll still be friends. Best friends. All the time. Just like always."

He couldn't stop himself. "Not always. I can't. Just when we're alone. And secret best friends the rest of the time."

She turned her back on him and crawled under the covers, and then she pulled them over her head. She was muffled, but he still heard her. "If we're not friends during the... the d-day," the hiccup in her voice made him want to peel the covers away and wrap himself around her, but he didn't. "Then we're not friends at all."

"LeeLee," he whispered. He scooted forward until he could reach the top of the comforter and tried to tug them back. But she had a firm grip, just like she had on his heart, and he couldn't break loose. So it fractured when he said, "I'm sorry."

All she said was, "Go away," very softly.

He sat on her bed for several more minutes, but nothing happened. She didn't move. He wasn't even sure she was breathing. He was afraid she'd suffocate under the comforter in her attempt to hide from him. Finally he crawled out the window again and slid off the roof. He forgot to shut the window, so he heard her start to cry as he dropped to the ground, and he had never hated anyone as much as he hated himself in that moment. And that was saying a lot.

LeeLee never cried. Not when she fell out of the treehouse and sprained her ankle, not when Austin called her names, not when Seth accidentally broke the little glass penguin Harry had gotten her for her seventh birthday. Not once had he seen her cry before he said those stupid, nasty things to her. His beautiful, strong LeeLee was crying because he hurt her, and for nothing. For a bunch of stupid boys who weren't worth spitting on. He ran away from the terrible sound.

On the way home, he stepped on a sharp rock and sliced open the bottom of his foot. He decided he deserved it, so upon arrival home, he neither cleaned it up nor put on a bandaid. He nearly fell asleep despite his own active self-loathing, but a clap of thunder jarred him from his rest, and he listened as a downpour covered the house. It was a heavy rain, and he wondered that perhaps it might never it would wash him away. He concentrated on the sound of the thunderstorm and the throbbing in his foot.

By the next morning, his sheets were ruined. His foot hadn't bled a lot, but a even a relatively small amount of blood on stark white sheets looked alarming. His mother panicked until he showed her his sole, which looked much better after she washed it off. It wasn't even bleeding anymore.

In school, Leah didn't show up by the time the bell rang. He worried about her, and loathed himself, and then worried some more. Had he hurt her so badly that she couldn't get out of bed? If she had told him what he told her, he didn't think he'd have survived. He wasn't sure how he was surviving. He learned to act, particularly around Austin and his new friends, but under the act he just hated himself, worried about her, and hated himself some more.

The weekend passed, boring and awful and dull. His mother wanted to know if he was going to LeeLee's, but he said she was busy and stayed in his room. He was distracted when his father came home Saturday night after he went to bed. He listened, but only heard soft words that he couldn't decipher, and the bedroom door softly closing. He didn't know if his father was still there until he found him at the kitchen table the next morning. Joshua didn't look him in the eye, and Sammy took his cereal back to his room to eat by himself. No one tried to make him come back to the table, and he refused to go to Grandma's for their waffle brunch since he couldn't bring himself to tell her why Strawberry Girl wasn't joining them.

The next morning, Leah's desk was still empty. He felt so awful about it that he slowly lowered his face to the worn wood in front of him, and he left it there.

The teacher gently shook his shoulder and asked if he was all right. Had he caught the bad cough that Leah had gotten? Apparently she had slept with her window open during the big storm. It had soaked her in her bed, and she had gotten very ill.

Sammy rightfully blamed himself. After all, he was the one who left it open in the first place. But when Austin snorted loudly and said that if they were lucky, she'd get pneumonia and die, he heard himself laughing hollowly along with the other boys.

That night was clear and cool. He was sick of keeping himself away from her. He could hardly remember why he tried to stop being friends with her during the day. Yes, Austin and Johnny and Roy all seemed to think he was cool now. They had stopped making fun of him and let him sit with them at lunch and picked him first in gym. But they weren't half as much fun as LeeLee, not nearly so sweet, and none of them had any good cookies to share at lunch.

So Tuesday night, after she still hadn't returned to school, he snuck out his window and jogged to her house, and he sped to a dead run when he saw that her window was cracked open. It was for him, he knew it.

But as he grabbed the porch railing and lifted his foot onto the first foothold he could find, he heard a little sob. He stopped and listened. There was another. And another. And then a cough, another sob, and a coughing fit.

Oh no. LeeLee was crying herself to sleep. Over him. Only she couldn't even cry herself to sleep because she was too sick. This was awful. Unacceptable. And it was all his fault.

He had to fix it. He lifted himself up and grabbed the drainpipe in his right hand, leaving his foot braced on the top of the porch rail. He had just hoisted himself up onto the roof when he heard another coughing fit, and a door squeaked open. He saw light from the hallway filtering into her room.

Harry's voice was low. "Honey, you okay?"

"K-Kinda," Leah answered before noisily blowing her nose.

"It's so cold in here!" Harry exclaimed. "Why is the window open again? You're never going to get better this way."

And then the window was shut.

Neither Harry nor his daughter had seen him, so he sat there waiting. He sat and sat and sat, but Harry had brought some cough syrup with him, and he didn't leave his daughter until it had kicked in and she fell asleep. By then Harry had fallen asleep as well, half propped up against his daughter's headboard.

By that time Sam was freezing, and he didn't know what to do. He needed to apologize to LeeLee, but he couldn't very well open the window while Harry was right there. When he heard Harry snoring, he gave up and went home.

The next day he prayed she'd be better and show up. He knew what to do. An apology in her bedroom would be almost useless. What he needed to do was say he was sorry in front of everyone. Right there at school. He had been an idiot and tried to tell her they couldn't be friends in public, so he'd fix it by doing just the opposite and being her very best friend in front of everyone. He'd kiss her again if she'd let him, and then he'd get her cold, and he'd deserve it, and they'd be even. He squirmed in his chair and tapped his heel on the floor, impatiently waiting for her to come.

But she didn't.

He could barely concentrate all day long. He hardly spoke to the boys; he just nodded and smiled blankly at the appropriate times (he hoped). He probably answered every single question incorrectly on their math quiz. He basically sprinted home. He wanted to go straight to her house, but his mother was waiting for him, and he couldn't get away.

That night he asked to go to bed early. Joshua and Allison had been tiptoeing awkwardly around one another every since Joshua came home, but they had identical expressions of bemusement when they told him that of course he could go to bed. He even heard his father asking his mother if his funny mood had anything to do with Leah. He didn't stick around to wait for her answer.

He climbed right out his window. It wasn't even dark out, and there was no way she'd be in bed yet, even if she was sick. Indeed, she was in the living room with Seth watching television when he got there. She was wrapped up in a blanket; she had it over her head and pulled up past her mouth; all he could see were her bright eyes and pink cheeks and little nose sticking out. She looked squishy and warm and adorable and wonderful. He climbed into the treehouse to wait, and a virtual eternity passed before Harry finally tucked her into bed and closed her door.

He would have flown to her if he could have. But it only took him a minute to appear by her window. She was right there, lying on her side facing away from him. Odd, because she always seemed to know when he was coming. And there was no way she was asleep yet.

He yanked the window up, but it stuck. He pulled and pulled and pulled, but it didn't move. Neither did she. He didn't even know it had a lock.

Finally he knocked on the glass. He wasn't sure if she was going to respond, but she rolled over and looked directly at him, and he saw that she was crying. Frantically, he tried to open the locked window again.

"Let me in!" he demanded.

She just frowned. "Why?"

"Because I need to talk to you!"

She sat up and pouted. "So talk!"

"Open the window first!"

"I can hear you fine," she shook her head.

"C'mon, let me in!" he protested. He was cold, and her room was warm, and she was warmer, and he wanted to be under the blanket with her.

She glared at him. "Are we friends or not?"

He was exasperated. He had been waiting all day, no, all week, just to say he was sorry. And she was blocking him. Why was she blocking him? He needed to apologize and hug her and make her his again and belong to her again and he needed to do it now! He wanted to smash through the glass and get to her! "What do you think?" he yelled back. It was the wrong answer. He meant yes, of course they were, best friends forever, and what a dumb question, because of course, yes! But that's not how she took it.

"Go away!" she yelled.

And then Harry and Sue were opening her door and glaring at him too. Little Seth was peeking in too, standing there in footy pajamas, clutching his teddy bear and blinking at him in surprise.

The window was finally open. But instead of his LeeLee opening her arms to him and ushering him through, Harry was yanking him in, through her room, into the hallway, and down the stairs. "It's a little late, and it's time for everyone to go to sleep." He sounded weary.

"I need to talk to LeeLee!" he protested.

Harry's grip on his arm didn't loosen, but he knelt down in front of the boy. "Everything okay at your house, Sammy?"

"Huh?" Who cared what was going on at his house? What was important was here. He could hear her sniffling. He had to make her stop crying!

Harry had worry lines in his forehead. "Is your mom okay?"

"What? Yeah."

"Is your dad home tonight?"

"Uh huh." He tried to pull away and go back upstairs.

He needed to go upstairs, but Harry didn't let go. But his hand on Sammy's arm didn't hurt. "Sammy, son, look at me." He finally did. "Is your dad drinking tonight?"

"No, nothing, I don't think so." Sammy shook his head.

"Is everybody safe? Are you safe?"

And Sammy finally figured out what was going on. He slumped down. "Yeah. Everybody's safe."

Harry brought him in for a surprisingly gentle hug. "You know you can come here anytime you need to, son. Day or night, rain or shine. But through the front door, okay? Can't have you falling off our roof and breaking your neck, okay?"

"Okay," Sammy mumbled.

Harry led him to the kitchen and opened their junk drawer, filled to the brim with nameless bits and bobs. He rooted around until he found what he wanted. "Hah."

He turned back and handed Sammy a key. "Front door, okay? For you and your mom."

Sammy stared at the innocuous key in his hand. "Oh." He hadn't thought about his mother using it, and that made him forget about Leah for a second.

"Don't let you dad find it, okay?" Harry instructed. "Your mom, she's, well, she's trying her best by you."

Sammy whispered back, "I know."

"Do you want to stay on the couch, son? Leah's sick, and we can't have you catching her cold. But you can stay down here if you need to. Should I get you a blanket and pillow?"

But anger flared in Sammy's chest. What did Harry know? Why did he have to know anything, anyway? Why was it any of his business? Why did anybody have to know his humiliation at all? And was his mother really doing her best by him? Was that her best? Was Joshua anywhere near his best? Was this Harry's best? If so, why did his mother ever get hurt in the first place? Why were all the grown ups such failures?

"No, Mr. Clearwater."

He didn't remember trudging home, but he did so, and with Harry by his side. Harry didn't drop him off at his own front door. He just boosted Sammy back in through his own open window. And before he walked away, he gently clasped his shoulder. "Use the key son. Anytime."

The shame was too much. He didn't use it, or the window, for months.

X-x-x-x-X

As always, thanks to my fabulous beta, Babs81410.


	6. Running to Nowhere

A/N: Since this chapter is another rough one, the previous offer still stands. I'm happy to give a heads up to anyone who wants one about the general direction of the story if you message me or ask in a signed review.

X-x-x-x-X

Sammy didn't use the key, but he kept it. He stuck it in a bright blue envelope that also contained the last birthday card he had received from LeeLee, and he shoved that under his mattress. He knew Joshua would never find it there, but his mother changed his sheets, and he figured she'd see it sooner or later.

Leah didn't talk to him for three months, and without her, Sam thought the world wasn't worth being in. At least he got to look at the back of her head from his seat right behind her in school (he barely restrained himself from tugging on her braids), or see the flush of her cheeks in winter (he wanted to kiss them again), or hear her laughing at something one of the Black girls said (he wished he had made her laugh). But the longer it went on, the less he knew what to do to fix it.

Once in a while, he would turn and catch her staring at him with sad eyes and a little pout to her pink lips. He wanted to apologize, but nothing he could think to say seemed adequate, so he just opened and closed his mouth uselessly until she turned away.

Things were somehow simultaneously better and worse at home. Joshua hadn't raised a hand against him since the day Sam had held a shotgun to his father's head, and Allison didn't have any new injuries that he could see. But they all felt like it was just a matter of time until something even worse happened, although none of them said so. Not in front of him, anyway. Although he did hear Allison and Grandma Uley whispering about it one day when his mother dropped him off for their waffle brunch. He was supposed to be washing up, but instead he was huddled under the window eavesdropping. He wasn't certain why she hadn't gone to the store yet.

Grandma was whispering, "How much more do you need?"

"I've got enough for the bus tickets now. It was hard; he found my hiding spot, and well, that was that."

"Did he hurt you?"

Allison sniffed. "You know. I'll be okay."

"Honey, I know I raised that boy, and I don't know what on earth happened. He was a happy child, and I thought I put him on the right path!"

"I remember. I thought you did too. But don't blame yourself. I don't think there was any way for either one of us to keep him away from the poker games, let alone the casino."

"Or the liquor. That poison should be illegal. I know a mother is always supposed to love her children, and I suppose I do since I have to. But that doesn't mean I like him even a little. Not this thing he's become," Grandma whispered.

Allison laughed darkly. "I know what you mean..." she trailed off. "I look at Sammy sometimes, and I remember all the things I used to love about him."

"Me too. You'll do better by him than I did by Joshua, won't you? Warn him. Make him understand the things he has to stay away from. He'll be okay, our Sammy. Because you're a good mother, Allison, and he has as much of you in him as he has his father." Both women tried hard not to cry. Eventually Grandma took a breath and continued, "And what on top of the tickets? You need to eat, you'll need a place to stay while you're getting back on your feet."

Allison made a choking noise. "That's just it. I've got enough to get us out of town, but not enough to pay for more than a few meals at McDonald's before we'll run out."

"I can give you money."

"How?" Allison snorted, sounding more bitter than he had ever heard her. "I know he counts your receipts too."

"Yes, but he doesn't know where my stash is. And I've had a little longer than you have to put it away."

"But you can't spare it either, I know you can't. I know how much he takes! You don't have enough of your own!"

"Enough is a relative term, dear. Anyway, no amount of money is worth your safety."

Allison kept protesting. Sammy knew that she felt as close to Joshua's mother as she did to anyone. Other than him, she didn't have any other family. "But what about you? You have to come with us. You can't stay here; it's not safe."

"I'm too old to go anywhere, my dear. This is my home, and I'm not leaving it. But you're young. You're young and you have your whole life ahead of you. And more importantly, my grandson has his whole life ahead of him." Her voice lowered so far it was almost inaudible. "And you have to keep him safe."

Now his mother was actually crying. He heard his grandmother move to the door, and he quickly shoved himself away and down the hall, twisting the faucet open to wash his hands. He dried them quickly and then just stood in the bathroom, unsure what to do next.

"It's not much," he heard Grandma saying. "About nine hundred dollars."

"But this is everything!" Allison protested. "We can't take all of it!"

"Take it and go find somewhere safe. That's all I want. For you both to be safe."

It still hadn't quite sunk in what was going on. He kept listening but heard nothing, and when he peered around the corner the two women were clutching each other tightly. When they made no move to separate, he finally decided to just ask.

He stepped into the room. "Where are we going?"

His mother pulled away from Grandma and turned to him with red rimmed eyes. "We're going to go somewhere safe, baby."

"Don't say where," Grandma interrupted.

Allison shook her head. "Why?"

"So I can't tell him where you went. Don't send me postcards, don't give me a forwarding address. Don't call to say you're okay."

Allison looked stricken. "Not even a phone call?"

"The line's in his name. He can look at the record and figure out where you are."

"Leave word with Sue and Harry. Just to say you're safe, nothing else. I do want to know you're okay. I have to know you're okay."

Sam didn't understand. "Why are we leaving?"

"Because of what your dad did to you," his mother began. She knelt in front of him and grasped his shoulders. "Until then, I thought... I thought... I didn't think he'd lay a hand on you. He's dangerous."

Sammy didn't have to ask who she meant. "He's always been dangerous," he said stubbornly.

His mother pointed out, "He'd never touched you before, had he?"

"No," he admitted. It had been the first time.

"And he's never going to again. But the only way to guarantee that is to leave."

Sammy felt dizzy. So it was his fault they were leaving. If only he hadn't gotten them into trouble! "Where?" He didn't actually want to know the answer. Wherever it was, it wouldn't have LeeLee in it. And even though she wasn't speaking to him, everything was better just seeing her, just knowing she was there.

Grandma reminded them, "Don't say in front of me."

Allison nodded at her. "Away. Somewhere safer. You and me."

"But why us?" He still didn't understand.

"Because we aren't safe," she explained again.

"No, no," he shook his head and tried not to shake. "Why are we the ones who have to leave? It's his fault, not ours! He should leave, not us! It's not fair!" he yelled.

Allison yanked him into her arms and squeezed him tight. "I know. I know it isn't fair, not even a little bit. If I could make him leave, I would. But the only thing I can control is what I do, and I'm taking you somewhere better."

"There isn't anywhere better!" And he firmly believed it, because even at age nine, Sammy saw the beauty of his home, the lushness of the forests, the rough purity of the cliffs, the power of the ocean, the richness of the life it supported, even just this tiny patch of land. Because his LeeLee had shown him. She had taken him by the hand and pulled him along and showed him the shades of emerald on the underside of a leaf, the darting, rainbow reflection of the scales of fish in the river, and the peach and strawberry rays of the sun as it set behind the clouds over the Pacific Ocean. And his home held LeeLee herself.

Sammy really didn't hear much after that.

Allison never actually left him alone with his grandmother. Eventually all three of them did the shopping together, because if Allison went home without any fresh food, Joshua would be suspicious. He trailed behind the women in a daze as they carefully counted pennies and figured out how to make their money stretch the farthest.

That evening, he couldn't look either of his parents in the eye. His mother was doing her best to act as if nothing was different than usual, but Sammy knew that the roll of bills she stuffed into the bottom of a box of tampons was making her incredibly nervous. Her eyes kept flicking to the bathroom, then rapidly away.

Joshua picked up on her strange mood, and he stared at her as steadily as he could. He was only on his fourth beer, so he was pretty even. Her anxiety flared under his scrutiny.

"Where's the receipt?"

She straightened and pointed at her purse. There was no point in getting it for him. He wanted to look through her bag.

"And the change?" He rooted around the fraying canvas. "Oh. Is this everything?"

Allison found her voice. "All of it," she nodded vigorously. On today of all days, she wasn't going to sneak an extra cent.

He counted it out in his palm, then narrowed his eyes at her. "There's some missing."

Allison jumped up like a startled rabbit. "No, that can't be true. Joy gave me exact change, I'm sure of it." She moved to look, but he stopped her with a hard gaze and a twitch of his chin. Sammy's stomach knotted in dread. Had she accidentally gotten some of Joshua's money mixed up with Grandma's?

"I gave you sixty, and this receipt says $52.17. So how come there's only $2.83 here?"

"There's more, there's more. Take another look," she gestured at the bag.

Joshua balled the money in his fist and thumped it on the counter. "Sam, son, go to your room." He didn't wait for Sammy to go, though. "Are you accusing me of being stupid or being blind?"

"Neither!" Allison laughed a little hysterically, trying to make a joke of it. "That's a bottomless mom bag, you know? It eats things. Can I take a look?" She reached out her hand, but it was shaking slightly.

Sam hadn't moved. He just started at his father, trying to replicate Joshua's hard stare. Joshua blinked at him three times, and something seemed to shake loose inside him. He wordlessly handed over the bag. Allison finally emerged with a crumpled five dollar bill in her right hand. "Here! Here. I didn't zip up my wallet all the way, it was dumb of me."

Joshua didn't look at her. He just kept staring at Sammy while he pocketed the money. Sammy didn't move either, not until Joshua sighed heavily and turned to the fridge for another beer.

Sammy fled to his room, and without pausing with the pretense of going to bed first, immediately opened his window and dropped to the ground. Mud splashed beneath his bare feet, and he wished he had bothered to grab his rain poncho. But it was too late. He sprinted through his backyard. By the time he reached the Clearwaters' house, he was soaked from head to toe. He grunted in irritation when he saw LeeLee through her kitchen window instead of in her bedroom. He didn't want to climb to the roof yet; the whole family would hear him from where they were gathered around the table eating one of Sue's pies. He belatedly realized he'd left the key at home, but he didn't want it. The front door wasn't his entrance to the home, it was her window. Sam thought about climbing up to the treehouse to wait, but from up there, he couldn't see into the kitchen. He stayed on the ground, finding some shelter from the rain underneath the treehouse.

Why couldn't that be his family? Harry had coffee in front of him, not beer or whiskey. It was probably even decaf. Seth had a smear of cherry sauce on his left cheek, and LeeLee swiped it away with her finger, which she then popped into her own mouth. Seth thought this was funny for some reason and deliberately added more of the red confection to his cheek, goading his sister into repeating herself. Sue finally stepped in to stop them when on the fourth or fifth swipe, Leah leaned over threatening to lick it right off her brother's face.

This finally gave Sam his opportunity. Sue hauled Seth up the stairs to toss him in the bathtub, while Leah went to her room to read a book. Harry disappeared, probably into his office on the other side of the house. As soon as he confirmed Harry wasn't on his way to Leah's room, he grabbed onto the slippery trellis and hauled himself up to her room.

As always, she knew he was coming. And this time, perhaps because of the expression on his face, or maybe because he looked like a shivering, drowning rat, or if he was lucky, because she missed him every bit as much as he missed her, she didn't hesitate to open the window before backing up to the end of the bed on her knees. This time he made sure to close the window against the rain.

When he didn't immediately speak, she prompted, "What is it?"

He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he needed. He reached for her, and she opened her arms.

He crumpled against her, relishing the feeling of her arms around his back, as he buried his face in her neck, pulled her in by her waist, and soaked her with rainwater. He breathed her in. Warmth pooled in his stomach, and the disparate pieces of himself, the ones that were tugging at him and pulling away, settled neatly together. For now.

She didn't say anything. She just squeezed him tighter. Five minutes passed, then ten. He didn't know how long they would have stayed like that, but Sue's voice broke the silence. "Leah? Sweetheart, we're all done in the bathroom. Shower's all yours."

Then pattering feet ran up the hall toward her room.

Sammy pulled away and jumped into her closet only a second before Seth burst through the door and tried to tackle his sister in his own small embrace. But he fell back, startled, when he found her shirt soaked. "Why're you wet, Lee?"

Leah looked at Sam, barely visible through the cracked open door, and stuttered, "Um... Uh... I'm getting a head start on my shower. Night, Seth, go on to your room."

"But I want you to read me my story!" he protested. "You do the best voices."

"Sorry, squirt, I already started my shower, see?" She pointed to her wet clothes. "Gotta finish it."

Stubbornly, he folded his arms over his flannel covered chest. "Then I'll wait for you."

Sue reached in to pull Seth out of the room, thankfully not noticing the water on her daughter's clothing. "Let's have quiet time in your room while we wait for your sister, okay?"

"I just gotta put my jams on, Mom," Leah explained. She closed the door behind them and let Sammy out of the closet. "Can you wait for me?"

He nodded. He'd wait for her forever. The past three months made it feel like he already had. She was only gone for a few seconds before she returned with a towel and ran off again. He found two pairs of his own sweatpants and tee shirts in her bottom drawer, dried himself off, and changed into dry, comfy clothes. He eyed her bed, tempted to get in, but was afraid one of her parents would tuck her into bed and discover him there. He settled for stealing the squishy purple pillow and sitting in her closet with it tucked to his chest.

She was gone for fifteen minutes, but that was okay. He could hear her reading a bedtime story to Seth, aided from time to time by Sue's own contributions of funny voices. He could admit to himself that he liked the tale even if it was supposed to be for little kids. Probably that had something to do with LeeLee's squeaky voice for the little boy in the story, her growls for the bear, and her attempt at a solemn, serious adult voice for the narrator. Then she took the fastest shower she had ever taken. He heard Harry wondering why she was so eager to go to bed, and he held his breath and tried to stay absolutely still so that he wouldn't be discovered. He was afraid Harry would sit and talk with her or maybe sing her a song, but she kept yawning dramatically, so her father kissed her on the forehead, turned off the light, and shut the door.

Less than two seconds later, she opened the covers to him, and he wanted to cry in relief. Instead he slid under and wrapped himself around her. He only realized he was trembling when she began to comfortingly run her fingers along his scalp in a gesture that always made him feel better. When he finally settled down, she quietly murmured, "I'm here, Sammy, and I'm not letting you go."

At that he sort of lost it, and he couldn't stop his tears. "That's just it. I think I have to," he muttered into her neck.

Her hand stilled and her breath caught. "Have to what?"

"Go. My mom's taking me away. We're running away, me and her, away from my dad."

He waited for her to speak, and it took her a long time to figure out what to say. "Where?"

"I don't know," he sniffed. "Somewhere safe, she says. So somewhere far."

She gripped him tighter. He could barely hear her, she was so quiet. "I don't want you to go."

"Me neither."

"Maybe you can just stay here with me. It's safe here, right?"

"Probably not safe enough. Plus there's my mom."

She insisted, "She should stay here too!"

"But he knows how to find us here," Sammy explained.

"Oh." She sounded completely forlorn, and he wished he could make her feel better. He knew he felt better being here with her, but how much longer would that last?

X-x-x-x-X

The next day, Allison quietly arrived to drop off a change of clothes and his backpack so that he could go straight to school. He already had his own toothbrush in a cup in the Clearwaters' bathroom, and it had not been thrown away during his three month absence. Sue invited his mother to join them for breakfast, but she was afraid of arriving late to the daycare, so Sammy ate his pancakes with LeeLee and Seth. Then they walked the mile long path to the tribal school.

Leah held Seth's backpack for him since the little kindergartener was running in circles around them, terribly excited that Sam was joining them for their walk. Although in Sam's absence, he had formed an attachment to a new friend. He sprinted ahead to a little red house and banged on it enthusiastically until Sarah Black let him in. He emerged with a slice of cinnamon raisin toast and three other children.

Jacob smiled at all of them and began to listen to Seth's intricate description of all the dreams he had the previous night. The twins glared at Sam and tried to separate him bodily from Leah, attempting to wedge themselves between the recently reunited friends. His LeeLee shrugged them off and took his hand in a show of solidarity. The gesture made him feel wholly better until they arrived at school and Austin spotted their joined hands and screwed up his face in judgement.

He wanted to keep LeeLee's hand tightly in his, preferably all day long, but he didn't know if he could stand the way Austin was looking at him. When Austin nudged Johnny and Roy to make them look at him, he dropped her hand abruptly before they could turn around. They shrugged at his approach when they found nothing to see, and he sighed in relief as soon as their attention was diverted elsewhere. Which was when he noticed the Black twins pulling Leah even further away from him and frowning at him over their shoulders. He felt like apologizing, but that would cause an even bigger scene, so instead he did nothing.

By the end of the day he knew his passivity had been a mistake. Particularly since he sat with the boys during lunch. After all, he had to get used to being without her, right? He hadn't done a very good job of it over the past few months, when at least he got to look at her and know that she was never actually far, when he knew that when he absolutely needed her, she'd be there for him. But if his mother took him away... His chest hurt thinking about it. He'd have to get used to taking care of himself, wouldn't he?

When he chanced a surreptitious peek at Leah, she was staring at her tray and pushing her food around with her fork, and Rach and Becca were glaring at him again. He shoveled his food into his mouth and considered his options. He could pick up his tray right now, excuse himself, and sit down with LeeLee again. She wouldn't just welcome him in, she'd probably show him her dimples. And she'd force the Black girls to be nice to him too. But if by some chance, his mother didn't take him away forever, he'd be forever ostracised from the boys' table. He'd have his one best friend, but maybe not a single other one. On the other hand, if he stayed where he was, for whatever time he had left here, he'd still get picked first on the schoolyard, he wouldn't have to endure any more teasing, and she'd still let him in her window when he needed her.

After all, she had let him in the night before, hadn't he? She probably would have weeks ago if he'd had the guts to climb up, and if he wasn't so awfully bad at apologizing. He'd just have to be more careful with his apologies from now on. Yes. That was it. It was an easy decision.

Of course, it was not so simple. And deep down, he knew all along he had made the wrong choice, and it made him hesitant. Instead of going to her room that very night and letting her envelop him in one of her (warm, tight, amazing, perfect) hugs, he got nervous. Nervous that she wouldn't welcome him in, that she would be mad at him for ditching her for the boys, that the Black girls would have convinced her he was a good-for-nothing rat. So he lay in his own bed and stared at the ceiling and thought about her instead. He didn't find out until much later that she stayed up for hours staring out her window and waiting for him.

X-x-x-x-X

Thanks again to Babs81410, who is simply an amazing beta. All mistakes are mine.


	7. Goodbye

In the end, nothing happened the way he thought it would. Or the way that Allison thought it would, for that matter.

His mother didn't tell him exactly when they were leaving, not because she was trying to hide it from him, but because she didn't actually know. She needed to go to the bus depot in Port Angeles to buy the tickets in cash, and in order to do that, she needed a day when she was neither due at work nor likely to get caught by Joshua.

She never made it that far.

Sammy wasn't supposed to be home the afternoon Joshua left them before they could leave him. A leak in the gas main emptied the tribal school. The secretary called the house to let his parents know, but as usual, Joshua didn't pick up the phone. When the secretary called the daycare to tell Allison, a coworker took the message but promptly forgot to pass it along when one of the two year olds took his diaper down and proceeded to pee all over the playroom mat and proudly announced that he had gone potty all by himself.

So Sammy walked home alone. LeeLee was only yards in front of him with the Black twins. She kept turning back and looking at him hopefully, expecting that eventually he would catch up with her. Instead he pointedly looked at the trees, his shoes, the dirt on the ground, anything else, since Austin and Roy were only yards behind him. When she blatantly paused to wait for him, he dropped suddenly to the ground to tie his already-tied shoelaces, and by the time he stood back up, she had turned away in a huff. He immediately regretted his actions when he saw her slumped shoulders, but by the time he worked up the nerve to catch up with her, the twins had placed themselves in between him and Leah. "Leave her alone." Becca crossed her arms in front of her chest, and Rachel followed suit.

"You're being a jerk, Sam Uley," Rachel added.

He began to protest, but Austin appeared at his left shoulder, and Roy at his right. "You guys are the jerks!" Austin threw back.

Roy nodded. "Just because Leah has a crush on Sam here doesn't mean he has to do anything about it." Sam thought this was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Leah didn't like him like that.

"She's being clingy, but a guy needs his space!" Austin had heard his older brother saying this about his girlfriend, and it seemed to make sense.

Roy agreed. "She's lucky he's being as nice as he is. She deserves someone to put her in her place, and we're happy to do it."

Sam tried but failed to stop the boys from helping him. They were only making things worse. Becca became incensed. "Put her in place? Which is where, huh?" she challenged.

"In... in..." Roy actually had no follow up. He really wasn't sure what he meant.

Austin filled it in for him. "She should go to hell! And you can go with her!"

Becca's answer wasn't a word, it was more of a screech. She threw herself at Austin, who stumbled backward at her approach. Rachel grabbed her sister before she could make contact, giving Austin time to make a fist and pull it back. Roy grabbed it before he could punch Becca. "Dude! You can't hit a girl!"

Rachel and Roy dragged their companions away before things could get worse, but by then it was too late. Leah was long gone, and Sam was too embarrassed to follow her. Instead he forlornly made his way home. He didn't even notice Joshua's pickup truck until he nearly walked into it; his feet had been trained on his sneakers and he had not been expecting any vehicles in the driveway. He stared at the bed of the truck. It was filled with black garbage bags.

He entered the house and heard rustling coming from his parents' bedroom, so he peeked inside. It was a mess. Almost every drawer in the ancient, battered dresser was open. Clothes hangers littered the floor, and garments were everywhere. Then a crash sounded from the closet. "Aw, fuck!" Three D batteries rolled across the floor.

Tentatively, Sammy asked, "Dad?"

Under his breath, Joshua muttered, "Shit."

His frowning face slowly emerged from behind the folding door. "What're you doing here, kid? It's not even noon yet. Playing hooky?"

"School's closed. Something was leaking."

Joshua ran one hand through his hair and looked at everything in the room except his son. "So why'd you come here? When I was your age, if I had a free afternoon, last place I'd spend it is my house."

"I dunno. What about you?" They both knew Joshua was supposed to be at the cannery, but Sammy was smart enough not to say it in so many words.

Joshua put both hands on his hips and blew a stream of air through pursed lips, staring at a spot beyond his son's head. "Yeah. About that. Fuck." Sammy just waited. "You weren't supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here right now," he mumbled.

That was when Sam spotted the old, battered suitcase lying open under a messy pile of tee shirts on the bed. Oh. The bags in the truck weren't trash, they were his father's things. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. He blurted, "_You're_ leaving?"

Luckily, Joshua didn't notice his slip. "I'm... I'm... Shit." He squeezed his eyes shut.

Again, Sammy waited.

"I can't do this."

"Do what?" But Sam already knew the answer to the question. Everything. Anything. Normal things. Decent things. He just didn't know why.

Joshua took a deep breath. "Be this guy. A husband. A dad."

Sammy narrowed his eyes. He didn't know how to talk to his father, but this might be his last chance. He had to get it out. It didn't matter if Joshua thought he could or not, he already was. "Everybody else does it. Paul's dad manages to be a dad even without a mom. Mr. Clearwater and Mr. Black and all the other dads around here do both at the same time, and they go to work on time, and they come home and eat dinner with their kids, and it really doesn't look that hard!"

Joshua laughed darkly at that. "Just you wait, kid. It's nearly fucking impossible, and someday you're going to see that."

Now Sammy got angry. "You mean someday I'm going to be like you?" He'd never be like Joshua. Never. "Bullshit!"

His father actually laughed. Sammy had heard the word out of Joshua's mouth a thousand times, but he had never, not once, said a cuss word back. "Yeah, well, I hope not." But he still didn't look Sammy in the eye.

Instead, in his attempt to look at anything other than his devastated son, his gaze landed on the shotgun in the closet, and he clenched his jaw. Sammy looked over to see what had grabbed his attention, and they simultaneously remembered the day Sam held it to the back of Joshua's head. Neither spoke until their only options were to talk or reach for the gun.

"I shouldn't have done what I did," Joshua admitted. His voice was low and hard. "And maybe I shouldn't be doing this either. But it's the best thing I can do for you."

Sammy realized his cheeks were wet. He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but he had to get the anger out of him. He glared at Joshua. "You were hurting her. You were going to kill her."

"And I deserve... I deserve... For what I do to both of you," Joshua nodded once. "You're right. You shouldn't be like me. Don't... don't be like me. Trust me on this, Sammy. Hurting someone that you love..."

"Love?" Sammy yelled incredulously. "I may just be a kid, but I know what love looks like, and it doesn't look like what you do to her! Don't say you love her, you liar!"

His words pushed Joshua to his knees. His voice cracked. "But I do. I love her. I love her like... like.. shit. I love her more than anything. Fucking anything in the whole goddamn world."

"Don't say that! You don't even know what it means!"

His words sounded thick, like he was talking with molasses in his mouth. "But I do. Just don't... Don't be like me, kid. Don't hurt the people you love. It eats at you. Twists at you. Gnaws at you. You don't want to have to live with that. It'll turn you into a monster who can't look himself in the mirror."

"So why do you do it?" Sammy sobbed because he knew that his father truly believed that he loved them. "Why do you keep doing it?" The anger had left him, and what was left was only sorrow.

Joshua's face crumpled and his head dropped forward. Sammy barely heard his answer but thought it was, "Because she reminds me of the person I used to be. The person I wanted to be. But that man is gone, if he ever existed. And I can't stand it when she reminds me."

The words meant nothing to Sammy, although one day they would. But he wanted to know. He needed to know. He had to know why. Why his father did what he did, why he didn't stop, and why he was doing this now. And he finally realized to his own mortification that he didn't want Joshua to go any more than he wanted to leave himself. He wanted his family whole and not to hurt anymore. "That doesn't make any sense," he wailed plaintively.

Joshua finally looked directly at his son in the face and saw the tears streaking down his young face. "Don't you see? I'm doing this for you! I'm doing it for both of you! It's the only thing I have left to give you!"

The words left Sammy's mouth before he even knew what he was saying. "Don't do that!" he shouted. "Don't pretend like this is for our own good! If you cared about what was good for us, you'd have done everything different! Everything!" Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew that this wasn't literally true. His father had his moments of kindness, of warmth, of generosity, that he gave away like treasures, and that Sammy held onto more tightly than gold.

But Joshua did not believe he had anything left for his son. He grabbed the edge of the bed and used it to pull himself off his knees. He hastily closed his suitcase around his pile of tee shirts, not bothering to shove the stray corners of fabric inside before he snapped the lid shut. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull it off the bed.

Sammy threw himself unthinkingly at the case. "No! No!"

Joshua looked down at him in shock, frozen as his son's pleading eyes, mirror images of his own, stared right back at him. He couldn't move his tongue, but he could move his limbs. So he yanked the overstuffed luggage up with a forceful pull, accidentally elbowing Sammy in the chin and tossing him back, where he smacked into an open dresser drawer.

Father and son wore matching expressions of pure horror. Later, Sammy could have sworn the moment lasted a full five minutes, and that his heart didn't beat the entire time.

And then Joshua swept out the door.

Sammy sat on the floor for only a few seconds. Then he was up and out and running. But his father's legs were longer, and Joshua's desperation to get away was great. Sammy burst onto the porch as his father slammed shut the driver's door.

"Daddy!"

Joshua fumbled with his keys as his son ran toward his truck.

"Daddy!"

He managed to work the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to life.

"Don't! Daddy! Daddy!" Sammy smacked his hands onto the glass window, just inches away from his father.

Joshua blinked at the red mark on his son's chin, and his decision was made. He threw his car into reverse and slammed his foot on the gas.

X-x-x-x-X

Sammy found himself sitting at the end of his driveway. The dust on the road had long settled, and he had no idea how long he had been there. But his mother wasn't home yet and actually wasn't due back for hours if the sun's placement high in the sky was any indication.

He stumbled as he tried to stand and belatedly realized that he had never taken off his backpack. He looked back at his open front door but couldn't stand to go inside and face the mess that had taken over his parents' bedroom. No. His mother's bedroom. He choked until he coughed, and he checked his face for tears. But he didn't seem to have any left.

He started running up the street toward the daycare and his mother. He could be there in fifteen minutes if he kept up the pace, but his backpack was bouncing on his back uncomfortably. He shrugged it off and it rolled into the ditch, he thought, but he wasn't sure. He really didn't care. He ran faster.

He was sweaty and sticky and breathless when he rounded the last corner and saw the little brick building ahead of him, and he stopped short.

What was he going to tell his mother? What was she going to say? Why was this his responsibility and not his father's? Had he even left a note? A message on the phone? Had he meant to, but Sammy interrupted him? What was his mother going to do? Was her heart going to break? Was she going to cry like he had? Was she going to jump for joy? He didn't think he could stand either reaction, or any of the ones in between.

He turned and walked slowly in the opposite direction. There was no question where he would go, no other options, nowhere else he wanted to be.

Half an hour later, he was in her backyard. He saw her through the window. She was in the kitchen eating grilled cheese sandwiches with Seth. Harry was on his way out the door, probably on his way back to work after settling the children in after their aborted school day. Sue's car was thankfully gone.

Sammy waited for Harry's car to pull away, thinking that it looked so normal. Harry found his keys, put the right one in the ignition, turned on the engine, put his car into reverse, and drove away. But in just a few hours, the process would reverse. He would drive forward into his space, put his foot on the brake, put the car into park, turn it off, and take his keys out and go inside.

Sammy was absolutely certain that Joshua would never do such a thing. Not ever again.

He debated whether to go inside. There was no doubt in his mind that Leah would let him in, but he didn't think he could even try to pretend he was alright for Seth. And he couldn't bear to break down in front of the little guy either. Instead he found the next best refuge: the treehouse.

Maybe it was the swinging ladder, maybe it was her sixth sense about him, maybe it was just a coincidence. But no sooner had he mounted the little platform and turned around that he saw her on the porch looking up at him. She looked worried, and he wondered how obviously a mess he was. She asked him to come inside, but he shook his head. She looked back at her little brother, and Sammy shook his head again.

As quickly as she could, she rushed Seth through his lunch and sent him to his room for a nap. It felt like an eternity. Sammy paced restlessly back and forth in the treehouse, which wasn't long enough for a good pace, and clenched and unclenched his hands. And then by some miracle he heard the door open and close, he saw the rope ladder wiggle, and she had him wrapped tightly in her arms.

She didn't let go. Thank god she wasn't letting him go. He'd have to carry her down on his back or something, because that was as far away as he was willing to let her get.

And then he cried.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410.


	8. Guilt and Redemption

For the next week, Sammy allowed Allison to tuck him into his own bed. She would kiss him on the forehead and stroke his hair and look at him with an expression on her face that he couldn't identify. On the first night she said quietly, "He's left me with the best gift anyone could ever give to another human being," and he knew she was talking about him. It made him feel guilty enough that he stayed in his bed until he was sure she was asleep before climbing out his window.

It was raining again, of course, and he was immediately drenched. With only four steps, not only his feet but his ankles and the hem of his flannel pants were covered in mud. And he was frozen by the time he saw Leah's house, but he hardly cared. He could see the her outline in the window. She was waiting for him. His muddy feet slipped on the trellis but he caught himself before he fell, and then he was soaking her comforter, her bed, and Leah herself, and tracking mud behind him. Again. This time he didn't care at all.

They didn't speak. He hadn't said a word to her earlier in the day, either, when she had sheltered him from the world in her arms, in her treehouse, in this place he hadn't wanted to leave. He had just clung to her until she asked, "Did she get hurt?" and he shook his head. She had relaxed marginally, but neither had let go.

They hadn't separated until they heard Seth calling, "Lee? Lee? Mommy? Daddy?" through the window that Leah had left open.

Sam hadn't known what to do with himself when she climbed down, but she had reassured him she'd be right back, and she hadn't lied. She returned only minutes later with Seth in tow but left him in the yard. She had known Sammy didn't want to talk to anyone or see her little brother, so she devised a game in which she sent him back to the house again and again to find increasingly obscure objects to carry out to the basket, which she then pulled into the treehouse. And every time she moved in from the entrance she'd sit by his side and nudge his arm with hers, or put her head on his shoulder, or lace his fingers in hers. But then Seth would come out again.

But now they were alone and he wouldn't have to let go until morning. So he didn't, and neither did she.

Sue didn't bother mentioning the mud all over Leah's bed the next morning, but she did pull off the dirty comforter and replace it with a tattered one, and before bedtime she tossed an old towel on top, right under the window.

By the third night, he realized that he could walk out the front door with an umbrella in hand and galoshes on his feet instead of climbing through his window in his socks. Joshua was neither drunk in the living room nor sober in the kitchen, and his mother was practically locked in her room.

X-x-x-x-X

The days were different than the nights. He walked to school with Leah and Seth, but as soon as he saw the boys standing in front of the building, he thoughtlessly widened the gap between them. He kind of wanted her to stop him when he realized what he was doing, but when her mouth dropped open in surprise while saying nothing to bring him back, he jogged ahead and tried to pretend everything was fine. And among the boys, pretending everything was fine consisted of not being friends with Leah. So when Austin accused him of walking to school with his girlfriend, he scoffed and said that she lived on his way to school, and he didn't want her around, but how could he stop her from walking near him? He wasn't going to cross to the other side of the street just because she came out of her house when he walked by. His pulse pounded in his ears as he felt her staring at his back. She could hear him, couldn't she? Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he swallowed it back hastily.

A week after Joshua left, Sammy fell asleep in his own bed while waiting for his mother to go to sleep, so he didn't see LeeLee that night. And then Allison started staying up later and later. The next night, Sammy lay in bed listening to the old timey music that Allison had turned on. It was the kind of thing that Joshua might have used as an excuse to wrap her in his arms and spin her around the room. It sounded like the music that was the soundtrack to the happy family moments that Sammy remembered.

He missed his father. And then he hated himself for it. He felt guilty for driving him away. And then he felt guilty for that. He wished he hadn't lost his temper, because Joshua might be dancing with Allison in the living room this very moment. And then he felt guilty for that too.

He wished he hadn't told his father that he did absolutely everything wrong, because he had done some things right, and maybe he could have told Joshua to focus on remembering the good things and not the bad. Maybe he could have helped instead of just driving him away. Maybe he would have... Maybe he could have... Maybe he should have...

The what-ifs drove him crazy, and he wanted nothing more than to forget them by running to LeeLee and letting her hug the confusion out of him. But he felt compelled to stay home while there was still a chance that his mother might peek in on him, so he fell asleep in his own bed the next night, and then the next, and then the next. But every time he woke the following morning, he felt as if he had slept only an hour or two before being rudely awakened.

At school, he did his best to ignore her. Doing otherwise only resulted in the Austin and Roy harassing both of them, so what was the point? He couldn't stomach saying nasty things about her; it made him want to throw up. It wasn't as if he wanted her to get teased in school because of him. And he really didn't think he could handle it if they started saying nasty things about him either. So he hoped that just pretending she wasn't there would be the next best thing. But still he felt nauseated all the time, queasy, as if his stomach were filled with live worms. And sometimes the worms felt like they were making their way outward, radiating to his chest, down his legs, along his arms. Sometimes he looked down at his skin, certain he would see it crawling with serpentine masses just under the surface, and was shocked to find that everything was still.

The sensation got worse and worse and worse. It exhausted him to the point of distraction. From time to time it overwhelmed his senses, and he would look up and find LeeLee staring at him with disappointment or sadness on her face. Looking away from her only made it worse.

Five nights passed until Sammy finally made his way to Leah's house again. He hadn't seen a real smile out of her in days, and before his self-imposed exile, he had never gone so long without sleeping at her side. He had a feeling that if only she would smile at him or touch his hand, the crawling under his skin would disappear. The night was uncommonly clear, and the moment his mother left his room after tucking him in, he sat up in bed to prevent himself from falling asleep.

As soon as his mother closed her bedroom door, Sammy was gone. He didn't bother waiting for her to actually go to bed. He needed his LeeLee. He pulled on a sweatshirt and stuck his feet into the first pair of shoes he could find and was out the door.

Since the moon shone brightly, he was able to see much better than he usually could. So he was able to see that her curtains were closed before he actually climbed up to her roof. He sped up when he saw it, nervous. He had never, not once, known her shades to be closed. During the day, she wanted as much light as the weak Washington sun provided, and at nighttime she kept the path between them as clear as she could.

And yet, he was shocked when he scrambled up to the roof and she didn't have the window open by the time he reached it. But he was crushed when he tugged at the bottom of the sill and the window didn't budge.

His jaw dropped open. She had locked him out, and for the first time in their entire lives, didn't even allow him to see her face. And he was certain she was right on the other side. Probably less than one foot away. He put his hand on the glass, fully expecting her hand to part the curtains and press her hand in a mirror image outline against his own.

But nothing happened.

The curtains didn't move, the window didn't open, and she didn't reach for his hand. He knocked on the glass, but there was no response.

He was at a complete and utter loss. This was... this was... Awful? Unthinkable? Horrific? Impossible? This was... this was... This was all his fault.

He had hurt her. He was still hurting her. He was using her. Taking from her what he needed and giving nothing in return but heartache and sorrow. He was a terrible friend and a bad person.

He was just like his father.

He had to fix it. There had to be something he could do, because he couldn't lose her. The months he had spent without her were unbearable. He couldn't do it again. Not now, not ever, not knowing it wasn't going to get better. He had to get to her and give her the biggest apology anybody ever gave anybody else, and then he'd hold her tight and never let go. If only he could get inside and talk to her!

And then he remembered. The key! He practically jumped off the roof. He sprinted back to his house and threw the front door open, not bothering to close it behind him. He skidded to a stop in front of his bed and threw the covers up, frantically sliding his hand between the mattress and the bedspring.

Where was it? It had to be here! He shoved his hand in all the way, pressing his cheek against the bed and stretching his arm as far as it would go. Nothing. No. No! NO! This couldn't be happening! The best thing in his whole life, and he was ruining it, and he had to fix it before it was completely broken! He finally stood and lifted up the mattress, grunting against the weight.

Nothing.

He knelt on the floor, too stunned and desperate to cry.

"Sammy?" A gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

"I lost it, mom!" he whispered.

Her hand on his shoulder tightened. "You didn't lose it, son." Her other hand appeared over his other shoulder and in it was the envelope.

He was ecstatic and shocked and angry all in the same moment. "You took it? Why'd you take it? I needed it!"

"Your dad looked everywhere, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I had to put it somewhere safer."

He grabbed it from her and stood. "I have to see her. I have to see her right now."

"How about in the morning? It's awfully late."

"No. It'll be too late by then. I can't wait. I have to fix it!"

She asked gently, "Fix what?"

He swallowed and pulled away. He didn't have time to explain it, and even if he did, he didn't know how. "I have to fix it before it's broken and she won't be my friend anymore."

"Did something happen?"

He was already running back to the front door. "Yeah, and it's all my fault," he called over his shoulder. "And I have to fix it."

But instead of sprinting back to her house as fast as he could, he was stopped short with a hand on his shoulder. "It's the middle of the night, Sammy. Talk to her in the morning."

He turned back to his mother incredulously. It was no secret that he spent half his nights there. Why was she trying to stop him tonight of all nights? "I always go over there! It's important. I have to! Why not tonight?"

"It's not safe to go running around at in the middle of the night," she explained.

"It's always been safer out there than it was in here!" he retorted. He was clueless as to where the answer had come from, but it worked. She let him go, but only after she handed him his backpack so he could go straight to school from the Clearwaters' in the morning. Assuming he wasn't sent right back home again.

Even though the moon illuminated his path clearly, he still stumbled and fell into the dirt twice as he hastily raced back to Leah's house. The sharp edge of the key dug into his palm. In the backyard, he looked up to her window, hoping he would see that she had changed her mind and opened the window, or at least the curtain. But they were still and closed. His feet pounded in the soil and thumped on the front porch. His hands shook as he fit the key in the lock, but then he was inside. He didn't remember to take off his dirty shoes at the door; he just bounded up the stairs two at a time and burst into her room.

She was sitting up in bed, staring at him with startled, wet eyes and a trembling lower lip. Her breath hitched in her chest, and she squeezed her comforter in her fists. Her soft cheeks shone with the tracks of tears, and he nearly melted into a puddle of guilt and shame in the middle of her floor, right where he stood.

He realized he still hadn't said anything when she blinked and asked him shakily, "What do you want?"

He gawked at her and tried to make an apology issue forth from his chest, but out came only air.

The sadness on her face started to turn to anger, and her features sharpened. "What do you want?" she said louder.

He finally found his voice. "You," he whispered.

"I don't believe you." She shook her head and pouted before crossing her arms over her chest, and he couldn't help but notice that she was pretty even now, with her lips even pinker than usual, her eyelids puffy from crying, and the angry spark in her eyes. "You don't act like you want me at all. You don't act like my friend."

"I'm the worst friend," he admitted, "but you're the best friend, the very best friend anybody ever had, and I don't know what I'll do if you won't be my friend anymore. I'm really sorry, LeeLee. If you let me be your friend again, I promise I'll do better."

She frowned and the pout turned into a scowl. "I don't believe you. Why've you been acting so mean to me? Friends aren't just people who come bug you when they need to take something from you and then ignore you or say nasty things when they think you're not listening. Why'd you do it?"

"Umm..." There was no good answer to that. He squirmed and shifted from foot to foot, aching to touch her skin and see if it would settle the sensation of worms wriggling beneath his skin. But she'd punch him if he came any closer, and he'd deserve it. "Because I'm really stupid?"

It was apparently the right thing to say. She snorted and released her fists from their clench and relaxed her arms in her lap. "You're not usually stupid, but you've been really stupid for the past few days. Weeks. Months."

"I know. I promise I'll stop," he repeated.

She narrowed her eyes, but the quirk of her mouth didn't look so mad anymore. "I'm not sure you know how to stop. This isn't the first time, you know."

"It won't be that hard," he tried to reassure her even as he felt absolutely awful for hurting her again. "Every time I'm wondering what to do, I'll ask myself what you'd do if you were me, and then I'll have the right answer."

That caused a little half smile to appear on her face. It wasn't big enough to make the dimple appear, but suddenly he had hope again. "That does sound like a good idea," she agreed before she wiped the last of her tears away.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had to know; the suspense was killing him. "So can we be friends again?"

She reached for a tissue to messily blow her nose. "That depends on you, not on me. If you act like we're not friends, we're not friends. If you act like we are, then we are. So it's up to you. But I'm not going to be friends with somebody who treats me like dirt."

He felt despicable, and he itched to crawl into bed with her. But he still wasn't forgiven, so he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed instead. He put his hand on the comforter between them, hoping she'd take the hint and grab it and make the worms under his skin go away, but she just looked at it. "I'm not going to do that anymore, I promise. I'm going to treat you like... treat you like..." He couldn't come up with anything. What was the opposite of dirt? Something clean? Something that made you clean? "Soap," he blurted.

That stopped her short. Her sniffling stopped abruptly. "Soap?"

He scratched his head uncomfortably. "Uh..." He felt like an idiot. Because he was an idiot.

And she burst out laughing. "It's the opposite of dirt, isn't it?"

He had to grin at her. Her laugh was the best thing he had heard in days, and the smile on her face was beautiful. And she got him. He loved that she understood him even when he made absolutely no sense at all, least of all to himself. But somehow she made sense of him. "Yeah. That's right," he said sheepishly.

She scooted over and opened the covers to him, and the worms in his belly turned out not to be worms at all, but caterpillars that suddenly metamorphosized into butterflies in his chest. "You're a goof, Sammy."

"Your goof." He dove under the covers next to her.

She slipped down and rolled onto her side to face him, and then she opened her hand on the squishy purple pillow, now fading to an uneven lavender color, and he was utterly relieved. He slipped his hand into hers while he arranged himself to face her. "My Sammy," she whispered. Her smile had softened on her face, and it made her look pretty. So, so pretty.

He squeezed her hands and felt all the crawling under his skin settle into calming warmth. Hesitantly, he asked, "My LeeLee?" as he stared at her little hand entwined in his. She had painted her fingernails bubblegum pink.

"Your LeeLee." Her dimples appeared. And once again he wanted to kiss them, but probably it would be too much. Maybe. Possibly. Could it hurt? Would he disturb their newfound and delicate balance, or would it seal her decision to be his forever?

But before he could work up the nerve, she yawned dramatically. "Mmmsleepy."

He realized he was too. Exhausted. But happy for the first time since... He deliberately stopped thinking about anything before this moment. "Then go to sleep."

Her eyes closed, but still he watched her. Several minutes passed, and still he watched her, the most precious thing he had ever seen, whom he had nearly lost due to his own stupidity. "Hmmm..." she sighed. "You'll still be here? In the morning?"

"As long as you'll let me stay."

"Just stop bein' mean," she mumbled, already half asleep. "And take off 'ur shoes."

He felt sheepish and silly again, but he refused to let go of her hand. Instead he awkwardly stuck his feet behind him and off the edge of the bed and toed them off, where they fell with a thump onto the floor. "Sorry," he told her, but by the time he was settled again, she was asleep. She must have been exhausted.

He heard a squeak in the doorway and realized that Harry or Sue had probably listened to the entire exchange, but he didn't want to look away from her now-peaceful face long enough to see who it was, so he lay still while the door closed quietly. And despite his own exhaustion, he stayed up even longer just looking at her, looking at the wonderful, lovely girl who had chosen to forgive him. He promised himself he'd never hurt her. Not ever again.

X-x-x-x-X

The next morning, he gratefully ate Sue's pancakes while Seth ran around the table in circles. "Sammy's here! Sammy's here! Sammy's here!"

Harry calmly poured syrup over his stack with one hand while handing Seth a plain pancake as the child sprinted. It wasn't the most traditional way to eat breakfast, but it worked. "Mm-y-ere! Mm-y-ere!" Seth continued with a stuffed mouth. Leah was still upstairs in the bathroom, and Sam caught Harry looking at him out of the corner of his eye while he cut his pancakes with his fork. "So you did enough groveling, eh son?"

"Uh," Sammy muttered as he slowly chewed his own mouthful.

"Keep groveling for a while longer," Harry advised. "Then don't do anything like that, not ever again, okay? Do the opposite of whatever it is you were doing before." By his tone, he could have been discussing the weather. But Sammy knew he was deadly serious. Harry couldn't stand to watch his little girl hurting.

"Yessir."

"Don't torture the poor boy," Sue admonished and set a glass of milk in front of him. Then she set a plate with two pancakes down in front of LeeLee's empty seat, a plate of sausage links in the center of the table, and grabbed a sausage and a pancake for herself and dropped them both into a ziplock bag. Sammy knew she'd eat them while she drove to work one-handed. "He's had a rough enough few days, hasn't he? And Leah can take care of herself. She's my daughter, remember?"

"She shouldn't have to," grumbled Harry, but as Sammy felt his cheeks burning with shame, Harry grinned at Sue, who was grabbing her purse off its hook. "But it's a good thing she takes after you. Won't put up with nonsense from nobody."

Seth, who was more perceptive than he let on, kept running around the table but changed his chant to, "Nobody's here! Nobody's here! Nobody's here!"

Leah emerged just as Sue was going out the door. "Morning sweetie, can you make sure your brother drinks his milk?"

"Sure, ma." Leah blew a kiss to Sue, and her mother made a dramatic smooching sound right before the door closed.

"C'mere, princess. Daddy wants one too." Leah gave him a kiss on the cheek, then kissed the center of her palm, which Seth slapped in a high five. The little boy then kissed his own fingers but never stopped running. Sammy wanted one too, but he didn't know how to ask, and it probably wasn't a good idea in front of Harry anyway.

Leah ate her pancakes quickly, and Sammy lent a hand by getting Seth to slow down long enough to drink his milk and taking him back upstairs so both of them could brush their teeth. As soon as Seth spit out his toothpaste, his mouth covered in foam, Seth declared helpfully, "Becca said that LeeLee should dip your toothbrush in the toilet!"

Sammy froze with the brush in his mouth before slowly withdrawing it.

"Don't worry, she didn't!" Seth grinned and rinsed his mouth.

Sammy sighed in relief and resumed brushing his teeth.

Leah appeared in the doorway and said with a smirk, "How would you know, squirt?"

Later that day, Sammy was reasonably certain Leah had just been teasing him, but when they ran into the Black twins while walking to school, he wondered if Becca had done it herself. Her glare at him was deadly. The girls had never really been fans of his, and after the past few months they weren't inclined to be generous, not even at LeeLee's insistence. They corralled her away from him as they walked despite her protests.

But in the parking lot in front of the school, he made his true allegiances known.

Austin was there already, as he always seemed to be. His sort-of-friend rolled his eyes watching Becca scowl at Sammy. He called out, "You guys bugging Sam again? If you don't watch out, he's going to lose his temper one day. And then you'll be sorry!"

Sammy did what he should have done weeks ago. He stepped right up to Austin, his tips of his shoes touching Austin's, and he used his superior height and the angry tone he learned from Joshua to lean over the smaller boy and hiss, "You're right. If you insult Leah one more time I am going to lose my temper. Wanna push me and see what happens?"

Austin's eyes widened. He was used to his victims backing down as soon as he started taunting them, but this was something else altogether. His eyes flicked around nervously, and he took one step backward. But then he realized that everyone was watching him, and he couldn't look like a pansy. Not over a girl, not even over the prettiest girl in school. "Yeah! I do wanna see! What are you gonna do about it?" He shot out his hands and shoved Sam squarely in the chest.

Sammy stumbled back, but only a few inches. His retaliating shove was more successful, and Austin landed on his back. Sammy leaned over him threateningly. This was it. The worms were back, crawling under his skin and itching to get out. And he knew just how to release them. He pulled back his fist as a crowd of children gathered around them yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

But through the din, Leah's voice stopped him. "Sammy? Sammy!" She was trying to push her way through to him.

Austin took advantage of the distraction to hook him in the jaw. It stunned Sammy momentarily, but he had been through much worse. Austin may as well have been a fly. He looked at Leah, who was staring at him with huge eyes. So when Austin swung his other fist at Sammy, he simply caught it in his hand and pushed it back down.

When the teachers finally broke through the laughing, jeering circle of children, Sammy was just sitting on Austin's chest as the bully sputtered with anger and thrashed.

Every child in the yard verified that Sammy hadn't hit Austin, not even after Austin hit him. So he had to sit in the principal's office after school for an extra hour that afternoon and his mother got an embarrassing call while she was at work, but Austin got suspended for a week.

When Sammy emerged from the building, LeeLee and Seth were waiting for him on the swings, so it was absolutely and totally worth it.

X-x-x-x-X

Thanks again to Babs81410. Any remaining mistakes are mine.


	9. Coming and Going

Things weren't exactly the same after that, but they were still good. Despite his obvious defense of Leah in front of school, the Black girls never really trusted him again, and they didn't welcome him back to their lunch table. Leah protested adamantly, but Sammy told her that as long as they were still friends, it was okay. If he was still hers and she was still his, and he was, and she was, that was all that mattered. Not being allowed to eat lunch with her was his punishment for being such a jerk, so he deserved it. After all, she let him back into the treehouse, into her room, into her life, and it was enough. She even stuck cookies in his locker every time she made a fresh batch of double chocolate chunk (or any other variety, for that matter).

It also turned out that Johnny and Bobby had never really liked Austin to begin with, so they defected with him and the three boys found a new table for lunch. And if Roy and Austin didn't pick him during gym, well, that hardly mattered. The gym teacher hardly ever made either of the bullies captains. And even when they were, and he ended up on the opposite team, that was great. Because Sammy beat them at every game anyway, so who cared?

The end of fourth grade came quickly, and then they had the summer to themselves. Until Emily showed up again, anyway. Before then, they ran through the forest and along the beach like "feral beasts", as Harry dubbed them. The weather was nice enough that they could sleep in the treehouse again, sometimes with Seth, and once even with Seth, Jacob Black, and Charlie's daughter Bella. Sam was certain she didn't get a wink of sleep in her sleeping bag in the corner. She seemed scared, but little Jacob whispered to her and kept her company while he snuggled with LeeLee and ignored everyone else. Leah became Grandma Uley's strawberry girl once again, and more importantly, LeeLee was his girl again. He was pretty sure she always had been. After all, he had always been hers.

When Emily came, Sue made it clear that Leah wasn't allowed to ditch her cousin to play with Sam. She tried to get all three of the children to play together, but Emily just wasn't comfortable with Sam, which made him uncomfortable with her, and even Seth's exuberance and Leah's most dedicated efforts couldn't get them to click with one another. So he would leave the girls alone for the day and wait for Leah in her treehouse at night, and she would sneak out of the bed she shared with Em and join him in the sleeping bag, and something about the fact that she wasn't supposed to be doing it made it even better.

During the days, he found Bobby or Johnny while his mother was at work and LeeLee was busy with Emily. Sometimes they played on the beach, sometimes in the little community park, sometimes in one of their backyards. Sammy started to bring a football or soccer ball or baseball and bat, and they gathered a crowd of boys for whatever game they could manage with whomever had shown up. And Sammy was really, really good at anything that involved throwing or running or jumping or kicking, so that worked well. And when Emily finally went home after a month, Leah joined the games, so he didn't have to choose between her and his new friends. Her arm wasn't quite as strong as his, but she was a better pitcher than anyone besides Sam himself, and she could run faster than any of them, himself included, so each boy grudgingly and gradually accepted her before eventually clamoring to have her on his own team.

The last year of elementary school, sixth grade, established a pattern that would last for two years. Sammy walked LeeLee to school and then once again sat behind her in class, but at lunch she sat at the girls' table while he sat at the boys'. Austin and Roy either sat by themselves or snuck behind the gym with cigarettes. After school they walked back to her house together, where they did homework or sat in the treehouse or ran into the woods until his mother picked him up on her way home from the daycare to bring him home for dinner. More often than not, after Allison went to bed he quietly made his way back to LeeLee's.

Sometimes he would lie in Leah's bed and hear Harry and Sue laughing or talking amongst themselves, and he would feel bad for his mother alone at his house. Then he'd make sure to spend at least a couple nights in his own bed. But nothing and no one could keep him away from his LeeLee for long.

Junior high was shockingly unremarkable. He had heard that everything got more awkward and confusing and generally harder, but his experience was the opposite. It was the calmest time he had ever known. He missed his father from time to time, especially when dinner was so quiet that he felt his chewing was too loud, or he saw Harry sweep Seth into giant hug or kiss Sue on the cheek, but Harry would ruffle Sammy's hair and call him, "my third kid". And Allison never had bruises or broken bones anymore, so he shoved away any more thoughts about Joshua as best he could. Time passed and all he heard from the other man was resounding silence, and sometimes he fooled himself into thinking he had never had a father.

So seventh grade passed without any significant events in his own life, although Becca and Rachel were absolutely devastated when their mother was killed by a drunk driver. While Leah did her best to comfort her best friends, Sammy was forced to recall his own absent parent. He tried not to think about Joshua, and many days he succeeded. Once his mother got rid of his father's things, there were so few reminders of the man. His parents were officially divorced, which Sammy never quite understood since he was confident that his mother had never managed to track down Joshua to sign the paperwork. He gave no word as to his eventual destination, he sent no child support, and absolutely no one seemed to have the slightest clue where he was, not even Grandma Uley. Sam didn't know how to feel about it. Was he supposed to be sad? Angry? Depressed? Thrilled? Giddy? He felt none of these things, only numb. Especially when he looked at Rachel or Rebecca's red-rimmed eyes and knew that they had permanently lost someone who had truly loved them. What had he lost? Joshua was still alive, presumably, and he meant his absence to be a gift. So if Sam ever looked at Harry hugging Seth, he ruthlessly smashed down the emotions bubbling in his chest, the ones that told him he missed his father and felt guilty for driving him away.

Then he would look in the mirror and see his father's eyes, nose, and chin, and he realized he couldn't fully escape him. He kept getting taller and more coordinated, which also definitely came from Joshua, although he wondered as he looked at his own bony elbows and knees if he'd ever grow muscles to match up with his height. Leah, too, grew taller and more graceful and ever lovelier, but there was nothing bony or angular about her. He could stare at her for hours, and truth be told, he often did.

The guys teased him about having a girlfriend, but this time he heard their friendly envy behind their words and took it in stride. Of course, he still got embarrassed and pretended he didn't like her that way and declared unequivocally that she definitely didn't feel that way about him (he was so sure it was true, there was no way she could possibly like him the way he liked her, although he wanted so badly for it to be otherwise).

He didn't know that she could hear him half the time he talked about not being her boyfriend, about not having a crush on her. It was the biggest lie he had told to date, and he clung to it desperately for fear of driving her away. He had nearly lost her once, and he absolutely, positively could not let anything jeopardize the fact that he had somehow gotten her back. Especially not his own stupidity.

He never saw her face fall when she overheard him fabricate a completely false crush on Lily Adams just to throw suspicion away from him and his LeeLee. After all, Lily was two full years older than them, a freshman in high school, and she was as liable to like him as she was to turn into a mermaid and swim off to sea. She was an object of affection for half the boys in junior high (while Leah was an object of affection for nearly all of them, although she had no idea), so this was completely plausible although wholly untrue. He had only ever wanted one girl in his whole life. Oh, sure he knew Lily was pretty. He had eyes, after all. He also knew Rachel and Rebecca were pretty, and that Megan Tate in the eighth grade had at some point turned from funny-looking to much-less-funny-looking, and that Olivia Liatha in his own class and that even Leah's cousin Emily would be considered pretty as well.

He just didn't care. Not one of them was half as pretty as his LeeLee, or a quarter as generous, or an eighth as strong, or a sixteenth as fiery, or a thirty secondth as adventurous... He was running out of fractions, but not of adjectives.

He was terrified she'd find out how he felt about her. Besides, he wasn't lying when he said he didn't have a crush on her. Because "crush" was a wholly inadequate word. Johnny had a crush on Leah. Bobby had a crush on Leah. Austin and Roy definitely had crushes on Leah. Not Sam. The word was petty and weak in comparison to his feelings for her. He was… He was… There wasn't a word in English or Quileute to describe how Sam Uley felt about Leah Clearwater. All the words he knew were just too small. Maybe he would have to learn Russian, Chinese, French, or even Latin or Greek before he found the right word to describe how he felt about her. But he wouldn't want to let her know even if he could figure out how, so he said that he thought of her like a sister. She believed him, but he knew that it was a lie.

X-x-x-x-X

It got worse the summer between seventh and eighth grade. Instead of Emily coming down to visit Leah, Leah was going to visit her instead. Sue was going to have her gallbladder taken out, so her cousin easily agreed to take Seth and Leah up to Neah Bay for a month instead of sending Emily to La Push.

Sam hated the very idea, but there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. Leah hated it too, but less than he did. For some reason he couldn't fathom, she liked spending time with boring, dumb old Emily. So she was looking forward to that part of it. But she wanted to be separated from him as little as he did her. From the night she told him to the night before she left, he didn't sleep in his own bed a single time. His mother didn't even try to make him, because he was so obviously heartbroken.

But he could do this, right? It was only for a month. He had gone longer during their estrangement, had slept in his own bed instead of hers, listened to her talk to others but not to him, watched her carefully as she navigated a life without him, for an entire three months. Only that time she was close by. She was there for him to stare at, he heard her voice nearly every day, and if he could've worked up the nerve, he could have reached out his hand and touched her. This time she might as well be going to China, she was going so far away. Of course, in miles it wasn't that far. But he couldn't bike to the Makah reservation, and neither one of them had their own phones, so he couldn't call her either, and he didn't have a computer. His only method of communication was to send her old-fashioned letters.

So he did. Every day. He told her all the things he had seen and done, making sure to go into detail about anything she would have wanted to do together (which was nearly everything). He told her all the things she'd have known if she was there. It was strangely easy finding the words even though he always seemed to have difficulty being eloquent in person. Then again, he had never needed to find the words before; she always seemed to know what he meant to say even if he couldn't figure out how to say it. But now he couldn't rely on her to figure it out from his stuttering and his body language, and with time to sit and think about what he wanted to say before dumb things flew out of his mouth, he found he could put on paper what he really meant.

And part of that was achieving the awkward balance between telling her how much he missed her without revealing how he really felt about her. It was a good thing he could throw away his paper and start from scratch.

After he dropped the seventh letter in the mail, his mother gave him terrible news. Leah wasn't coming back in three weeks; she was coming back in ten. Apparently Sue was still in the hospital; her surgery had been more complicated than anticipated, and her recovery was expected to take much longer. Allison kept talking, but he didn't hear much of the rest. All he heard was that he wasn't going to see his LeeLee. All. Summer. Long.

The worms were back, the ones that crawled in his stomach. Thankfully it wasn't so bad that he felt them under his skin. He clutched in his hand the first letter he had received from Leah, still unopened. He actually couldn't bring himself to open it. He knew he was being foolish, but he felt like it was all he had of her, and he wanted to savor it. He stuck it in his pocket, keeping it close, ate a mechanical dinner, watched a couple sitcoms without any idea what had happened on either, and sat down to write her his nightly letter. He tried not to sound too despondent about missing her, but he was pretty sure he failed.

That night, he quietly crept out the front door after his mother had gone to bed. He carefully picked his way to the Clearwater house, empty for now since Harry was probably still at the hospital with Sue, and climbed up the trellis. He slid open Leah's window and climbed into her bed. It still smelled like her. He grabbed her flashlight out of her dresser and read her letter over and over, especially the part where she said she missed him and couldn't wait to see him again. Then he slept on her newer, fluffier pillow, but he grabbed the old purple one (now more gray than purple, and actually covered with a striped lavender pillowcase) against his chest and pretended it was her.

The next morning, he woke up early and went home before his mother came to gather him up. Harry must have come home at some point and probably knew he was there, but he didn't bother him. He felt a bit pathetic when he spotted Roy in the backseat of his mother's car as he was walking along the street, and he was really glad that no one caught him going into or coming out of Leah's bedroom.

He didn't go back again until she was there to meet him. In the meantime he waited impatiently for her letters (she wrote to him every night just like he wrote to her, but she didn't have enough postage to mail them every day, so she sent them in bundles once or twice a week). They were long, rambling, and hilarious. It made him feel better that she apparently missed him every bit as much as he missed her, although this also made him even guiltier for the months he was being a jerk. And she complained good-naturedly about Emily not wanting to play sports or explore the woods of the Makah Rez, but he heard the general happiness of her tone and knew she wasn't upset about anything other than being separated from him. Not to mention that she was half tomboy and half girly-girl, and she was probably thrilled to indulge her inner princess around Emily.

The rest of the summer was kind of boring, and he missed her acutely. But there were football or basketball games to play, and Bobby's dad bought an Xbox, so he and Johnny were happy to congregate around it. And best of all, his mother got him a used surfboard, so he split his time between pickup games on clear days, video games on rainy ones, and learning to surf. He even somehow managed to impress some of the high school boys with his persistence in trying to teach himself how to manage the board, so they started giving him tips and instructions. By the end of the summer, he kind of looked like he knew what he was doing.

Actually, before he knew it August had arrived, and she was back.

X-x-x-x-X

She came home with shiny lips, sparkling eyes, longer hair, and... and... Whoa.

Sammy got his first embarrassing erection the afternoon she came home a day early and surprised him. She jumped out of Harry's car without bothering to shut the door or go inside, although she briefly hugged her mother standing on the porch. Then she ran straight into the backyard and through the woods and burst through his back door. She shrieked with excitement and threw herself at him where he stood by the counter making a sandwich, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Oh, oh, oh, she was finally here! Finally back! Finally in his arms, right where she was supposed to be! He crushed her tightly around her little waist and inadvertently lifted her off the floor. His body and brain disconnected and then linked back together. He breathed her in and felt the vibrations of her laughter before he even heard the joyous, wonderful sound interspersed with gleeful repetitions of his name. He found himself chanting, "LeeLee," breathlessly, over and over and over. Mmm. She smelled good. Really good. Did all girls smell so good or was it just LeeLee? How had he not noticed this before?

She giggled and rested her cheek on his shoulder and murmured, "Hmm. That's just how it used to sound when you said my name when we were kids. But you're a bit bigger now. Did you grow?"

And that's when he realized that he wasn't the only one who had grown. But she didn't just grow taller, she grew out. Something soft was pressing against his chest. Something wonderful and perfect and touchable and squeezable and oh god he was getting hard and oh crap could she feel that and oh no she was going to kill him and he should put her down but he didn't want to put her down he wanted to be closer he wanted to be so close he wanted to be as close as humanly possible he wanted he wanted he...

He dropped her, and she landed with a squeak and a chuckle. "S-S-Sorry," he stuttered. He stepped back and looked at her, and well, that was worse. Because she had turned from incredibly pretty to flat-out beautiful (or maybe she always had been; he was just so used to seeing her every day that maybe he hadn't noticed). Her dimples had never been so tempting, and that was really saying something. Emily must have gotten her to use makeup because her cheeks were pink under her usual tan, or was she flushed? Was she blushing? Because of him? No, idiot, she probably just ran here. That's all. But her cheeks and her dimples were pink and really pretty for whatever reason. And her eyes were deep brown and wide, and her eyelashes were thick and long and even they were pretty too, and her lips were even pinker than her cheeks, and glossy and soft looking and plump and... and...

Crap. He was staring at her, wasn't he?

And even though she wouldn't feel his hard-on pressed against her stomach, now she might be able to see it, and if that happened, he'd have to die of embarrassment. Which was a shame since he'd just gotten her back. Crap. Crap. Crap. It felt like it was getting as big as cucumber, and he was worried it was pointing right at her under his shorts and it was throbbing and please don't let her look down and he needed to look down and check himself to see how bad it really was but if he looked down then she'd look down and then she'd know and he'd die and...

His eyes flicked down to her chest. Shit. She was wearing a modest, boring Mariner's tee shirt, but the "Seattle" part at the top was all stretched out because of what was underneath, while the "Mariners" part in the middle was folding in on itself because her waist was so little, but the bottom of the shirt was spreading out again because she had hips that were perfect for grabbing onto, but wait, what?

Now he felt like the size of a damn baseball bat! (Okay, fine, he was being a little overly generous). But if he wasn't careful, he was going to smack her in the gut with the damn thing!

Harry was going to kill him, or Sue was going to kill him, or she was going to kill him, and it would be a slow and painful death. And the worst thing about death was that he'd never again be able to see her again, hear her laugh, eat one of her chocolate chunk cookies, or kiss her dimple or kiss those soft looking shiny lips or touch her boobs or...

Crap.

He looked at her face again, and yep. Still so damn pretty she was positively beautiful. He was a dead man. She grinned at him and her eyes sparkled. Thank god she was still looking him in the eye, and she didn't appear to be laughing at him. "Hi, Sammy."

"Hey, LeeLee. I'm so glad you're home."

He leaned forward very carefully so as not to brush his hips against her, and he hugged her more gently than he ever had before.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410.


	10. Puberty

That night would be the last one he spent in her bed for a very long time. He had waited for her to come home all summer long, and each night that he lay in his room staring at the ceiling, he wished he was staring at her shiny hair or her little nose or her eyes flicking back and forth under her closed lids. Sleeping two people to a twin bed probably should have been uncomfortable, especially now that they were both getting so much taller, but it just wasn't. He always felt much better rested climbing out her window than he did getting out of his own bed. Later on he would realize it was the place he felt the safest, but for now it was the place he got the best sleep. And now she was finally back. Finally.

But for the first time, Allison told him he shouldn't sleep in Leah's bed. His mother had come home to an empty house and went to fetch him when he didn't appear for dinner. She had meant to have a talk with him that very night about the inappropriateness of sleeping in a girl's bed at his age, but she had no idea Leah would be back so soon. She had intended to talk to him alone, but it was probably just as well that Harry and Sue were there too so they could provide backup. The kids would surely protest.

And protest they did. Sammy was normally a very level-headed and even-tempered child. His bad moods normally consisted of withdrawing into himself, although Leah always seemed to know how to coax him back out of his protective shell. Since his father had left, Allison hadn't seen him lose his temper a single time. Not so when she showed up at the Clearwaters' door to retrieve him. At first he didn't even realize what she meant when she asked him to come home; he obviously had every intention of getting pajamas and walking right back. She stopped to explain that no, he should come back in the morning and let Leah get some good rest in her own bed. He didn't take the hint (no thanks to Leah, who said she'd been dying for a sleepover with Sammy for weeks).

Allison exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Harry and Sue and tried again. "Actually I think you and Leah might be getting a little old for sleepovers, sweetheart."

Leah laughed at that and grabbed Sammy's hand. Allison picked up on the subtle pink tinge to her son's ears at the gesture, but Leah didn't. "No way! Sleepovers are great! Going to Emily's was like one giant sleepover, and it would have been perfect if Sammy had been there. We can stay up and watch a movie and make popcorn!"

"I don't think so, honey." Sue shook her head.

"Why not?" Leah asked. "It's not a school night or anything. We've got another week until school starts. We have to take advantage!"

"The movie and the popcorn are fine," Harry clarified.

Allison nodded. "Just not the sleepover part."

Sammy narrowed his eyes. "Wait, so I can be here late and hang out here but not stay?"

"That's right," Allison hoped that would be the end of it. "As long as Harry and Sue say it's okay."

"Of course!" Sue answered.

"Just come home when the movie's over."

"But why do I have to leave after the movie's over?" Sam was incredulous. He couldn't care less about a movie or popcorn. He wanted to be with his LeeLee.

"You should sleep in your own bed," Allison explained.

"Why?" Leah asked, perplexed. She tugged on Sammy's hand and pulled him even closer than he already was. "We just want to hang out. We haven't seen each other all summer long! We have months and months to catch up on!"

Sue chuckled. "What about all those letters you told me about? I think the two of you must have already written two full length novels about what you did for the summer and sent them in the mail."

Sammy raised his voice in protest. "It's not the same!"

"You'll see each other again tomorrow," Allison tried to reassure him. "It's only for a few hours."

"Exactly! It's _hours_," Leah sighed dramatically. "And we've already been separated since forever, and we have to make up for it!"

"Sorry, princess," Harry jumped in. "You'll have to make up the hours during the day."

"What's the difference?" Leah still didn't get it, although Sam was beginning to understand. He just didn't like it.

"Boys and girls your age don't sleep in the same bed," Sue explained.

"But we did just a couple months ago!" Sammy was getting angry. The debate went on and on, Leah becoming more distressed and Sammy more irate. Harry wisely fabricated an excuse to leave, taking Seth into the kitchen to get ice cream, once he realized that there was no way his wife was allowing a hormonal teenage boy into bed with his not-so-little-anymore baby girl. Voices were raised and words exchanged until Sammy yelled, "I need LeeLee! I always sleep in LeeLee's bed!"

"Not anymore you don't," Allison said firmly, effectively ending the discussion. "You have two choices. Stay here for a movie and then come home, or come home now. Which is it?"

"The movie," Sammy sulked.

Leah looked disappointed and was obviously going to keep protesting, but Seth popped in to ask what movie, and Sammy grumbled, "I don't care."

Allison went home first and waited up for him, hoping that by the time he came home he'd have calmed down somewhat.

He apparently had. Or she thought he had, anyway. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and said he'd go back first thing in the morning and was that okay? And she was relieved. She had been afraid she'd have to have the sex talk with him, and in preparation she even thought to dig into Joshua's old, leftover alcohol stash to work up the nerve. But apparently she'd get to wait a little longer.

Very little.

Sammy was being overly solicitous. He had absolutely no intention of sleeping in his own bed. He'd never before asked for permission to go to Leah's in the middle of the night, and he wasn't about to start now, not when he'd been missing her desperately for weeks. But he was going to be prudent. This time he didn't just wait until Allison's bedroom door was shut. He actually peeked in on her before he left. He had a good hour to wait, so he fabricated a decent excuse in case she was awake when he opened her door. He piled on thermal underwear, a long sleeved tee, three sweatshirts, and two pairs of sweatpants before climbing under the down comforter that normally lay bunched at the foot of his bed in the summer. After fifteen minutes he was certain he'd given himself a plausible fever. He waited and waited and then gave it an extra half hour. His mother had been in her bedroom for at least forty five minutes when he stripped back down to his normal tee shirt and boxers, faked a shiver, and crept across the hall to gingerly open her door.

Her breathing was even, slow, and deep. He tiptoed forward and leaned over her. Nothing happened. He waved his hands in front of her face. Nothing happened. He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes. Nothing happened. She was completely asleep. He grinned to himself and left as carefully as he had entered.

Five minutes later, he was climbing up the trellis. Leah had the window open before he got to the roof. She had her index finger pressed up against her grinning mouth in a "shh" gesture; apparently Sue had apparently just peeked in to ensure that Leah was alone in her bed. They both hoped it would be the only check for the night; this was much later than he usually arrived.

As Leah scooted back to let him in, he tried to keep himself from staring at her too blatantly. She was wearing a red tank top with three stars embroidered across the top and matching cotton shorts. He'd seen her in this exact same outfit dozens of times before, but it felt like he was seeing it for the first time. The skin of her exposed shoulders looked smooth and soft, almost as smooth as the slim legs she had tucked under her. But either she really had grown or the shirt had shrunk in the dryer, because now there was a hint of her stomach peeking out from under the shirt, and oh, was that her bellybutton? It was dark, but yeah, he was pretty sure that's what that was. It was even more tempting than her dimples. He childishly wanted to stick his finger in it, and he not so childishly wanted to run his hands over the soft looking skin of her belly. Crap.

He dragged his eyes away from her little waist, but that was a mistake. Because between her midriff and her face lay his downfall. Her breasts. Was it his imagination? Or shadows? Or were those the outlines of her nipples? Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. He was staring at her, wasn't he? Stop staring stop staring stop staring. Was his mouth hanging open? He shut it abruptly and swallowed. Why did he have so much saliva in his mouth? What possible purpose could that serve? Saliva was for eating, and he definitely wasn't here to eat Leah. Was he? Oh god! Now he was thinking of nibbling on her boobs! Stop it stop it stop it!

His mouth had dropped open again. He closed it shut tightly, pressing his lips together in an attempt to seal himself shut. And she had totally noticed, because when he finally pulled his eyes away from her breasts, her head was tilted to the side and one of her eyebrows was raised. Very quietly, she asked, "Sammy? Are you okay?"

He nodded mutely, but it wasn't good enough. She knew him too well, and by the skeptical expression on her face, she knew he was withholding something. "I really missed you," he said truthfully.

Her expression turned all melty and sweet. "I missed you too!" she whispered and leaned forward, throwing her arms around his neck in her exuberant way. He made the mistake of glancing down, and wow. Those were some short shorts. And there was her butt. When did it get so round? Was it always that way? Surely he'd have noticed it before now. But then again, her pyjama shorts were shrinking and showing her off in a way they never had before.

Thank goodness he was sitting on his heels. Because those soft breasts of hers were brushing against his chest again, he was sure of it, but his shins on the bed and his knees running into hers prevented her from rubbing up against his hard-on, which once again felt huge. Uncomfortable too, actually, because it was wedged down awkwardly between his thighs when all it wanted to do was point at her again. It hurt a bit in this position, but he'd take the discomfort any day over the horror of having her accidentally brush up against it. Would she know what it was? Would she ask him? He would die of shame if she did. Unless she wanted to touch it, in which case... Stop it stop it stop it!

He breathed shakily into her hair, and she started to pull away. Nope, he wasn't going to let her move. Not yet, not when he was afraid that shifting of any kind was going to push Li'l Sammy right through his fly to try to say hello and ruin their friendship forever. He squeezed her tighter.

"Aw, Sammy." She relaxed and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, not anymore. You know I'd never really leave you, right? I'll always come back to you."

Her gentle tone settled him down in every way, and after a minute or so, he nodded and let go of her.

"D'ya wanna go to sleep now?" she asked. He nodded gratefully and yawned, suddenly exhausted. The weeks apart from her had taken their toll. His yawn triggered her to do the same, and then hers triggered another one of his, and they giggled at each other as they crawled under the covers.

But he couldn't figure out the best way to lie down. On the one hand, he wanted to keep her as close as possible, keep as many parts of him pressed against as many parts of her so that his sleeping body would know with absolute certainty that she was right there. But on the other, he wanted to lay on his side far enough away that he could look at her for as long as he could stay awake. She often fell asleep before he did, and he loved the time directly after, when he could stare at how pretty she was without fear of being caught. It never lasted long, of course; his own fatigue quickly overcame him, but he loved those minutes nonetheless.

Tonight she decided for him. She apparently wanted to look at him as much as he wanted to look at her, so they faced each other and blinked sleepily at each other until, for once, he fell asleep first.

X-x-x-x-X

The next morning he found out why he wasn't supposed to sleep in her bed anymore. Probably he should have seen it coming after their reunions the day before. He woke with the rising of the sun, but it was something else rising that prompted him to wake.

Even though they had fallen asleep facing each other and several inches apart, they hadn't stayed that way for long. Sometime during the night, either she had rolled over and scooted backward or he had pulled her toward him. Either way, the end result was his other preferred sleeping position: his entire front pressed against her. Or more specifically, wedged against her buttocks.

Sammy was still asleep, but ohh... that felt good. He tightened his arm around her waist and tugged her even closer. Mmm. That was nice. Nicer than nice. What if he... Mmm... That was... That was... He should definitely do that again. He tightened his grip. Oh... It... That... That was so good. Again... Mmmm... It... Mmm... Again... Oh... Oh... Oh!

His eyes popped open. Oh no. Oh shit. Oh fuck. He was such an idiot, and he was so, so, so dead.

This. This was why their parents didn't want him here. Oh crap. Did Harry know he was in here? Were her parents waiting on the other side of this door to ambush him? Did Harry keep his rifle loaded? Did he just get her back only to blow it and get killed the very next day? Haha, he said "blow it"! But no, now was not the time to get hysterical! He was dead. He was so, so dead.

Oh who cared about anyone on the other side of the door! What about LeeLee? Was she awake? He couldn't see her eyes. Were they big and wide and shocked and appalled? He couldn't see! But her breathing was kind of shallow. No no no no no. Could she feel him? Of course she could feel him! He obviously didn't have a really weirdly shaped set of keys stuffed into his boxers, now did he? And she wasn't an idiot. He was the idiot! He needed to move and get it away from her before she ended their friendship forever. But what if she was really asleep? What if she was asleep right now, but as soon as he moved, she'd wake up, and _then _she'd feel him? Then he'd ruin everything for no reason! Then she'd kill him herself, she wouldn't need Harry to do it!

Damn it! Go down go down go down. Haha, he said "go down!" No, he had to quit thinking about that! He had to quit it! Go down, no, go away go away go away! He thought about raisins and prunes and deflated balloons and getting violently murdered by Harry.

It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? Why?

Because he was still pressed against her, that's why. He was never going to get out of this alive if he didn't move. So he gingerly loosened his grip on her waist and shifted his hips backward. That was smooth, right? Not obvious at all, right? He was just shifting, right? She was still asleep, right? He let go of her. Okay, better. But he couldn't pull entirely away because she was lying on his other arm, and Leah's new and improved body apparently had a very straightforward and irreversible effect on his body whether or not he was actually humping her, because he was still pitching a tent in his boxers. Go away! Now!

But he was stuck. Stuck in the most perfect place in the whole world, actually, but stuck nonetheless. She was lying on his arm, and he was just going to have to live in this embarrassing state until she spontaneously moved off him, was that it?

Go away before she wakes up and kills me!

It wasn't working, although he was no longer quite so afraid she was awake and about to kill him, because he'd be dead already. But she might be awake and torturing him knowingly.

Finally he decided he just had to bite the bullet and move. He carefully started extracted his arm. Okay, that was it. Yeah. It was working. Slowly, carefully... Oh, her breath skipped! Don't move don't move don't move go away go away go away...

Huh. Nothing happened. He gingerly began to remove his arm once more. And... almost... so close... Yes! Freedom! Life! Not getting murdered by Harry or Sue or Leah (or heck, by Seth)! Yes!

He scooted as far away from her as he could get, which was not far in the little twin bed.

"Sammy?" she mumbled. Crap!

He froze again.

She rolled over and opened her eyes. Oh hell, he was dead!

But then she smiled at him. "Gonna get going?"

"Uh..."

"Do you want to try to get home before your mom notices you're gone?"

That was a great reason! "Uh huh." But was it safe to get out of bed? Was he going to accidentally poke her in the eye with it as he climbed out of the covers?

"It's not even six yet. She won't be awake yet, will she?"

"Probably not."

"Good. I don't want you to get in trouble. But I'm so glad you came over!"

"Me too."

She leaned over to hug him goodbye, but he stopped her with a hand. "What's wrong?" she asked, confused.

"Uh... morning breath?"

One side of her mouth lifted in a quizzical smile. "So? I was going to hug you, not kiss you."

"Oh." And damn, now that she mentioned it.

"You're a big silly, Sammy!"

Bigger than you know, he thought. But actually... Not so much anymore. He had started deflating when he started talking about morning breath. Thank god.

Allison was waiting for him when he got home, and she was glaring at him.

"Samuel Levi Uley!"

He cut her off before she could get any farther. "Don't worry mom, it's not going to happen again."

It was probably his despondent expression that turned her from angry to concerned. "What, did something happen? Is everything okay?"

His answer was short and clipped. "Fine."

"Fine fine? Or hey get off my back mom fine?"

"Fine!" he snapped.

"Is Leah okay?"

"Yeah, great," he muttered.

"But you won't be sleeping over again?"

"No! Can you please drop it, mom?" His tone warned her off, which only made her more persistent. She followed him to his room, sat him down, and Sammy suffered through the most awkward and excruciating conversation of his entire life. By the end of it, he had tried to suffocate himself with his own pillow and inadvertently swore off sex until he, or more specifically Leah, was thirty.

X-x-x-x-X

After that, Sam couldn't look his mother in the eye for about a week. That morning he didn't even make it back to Leah's house until she called at lunchtime wondering if he'd gotten grounded, as she had expected him back for breakfast. He was terrified of his body's reaction to her, and talking to his mother about it only made it worse. He changed into no fewer than four different outfits trying to figure out which would best hide the evidence, and then he went back to see her.

Leah was babysitting Seth, which helped immensely. The boy was entertaining and distracting, and he desperately wanted Sam to help him climb the tallest tree in the backyard instead of his sister (which was silly since Leah was still unquestionably the best tree climber in La Push). When it started to rain the three of them took snacks and playing cards up to the treehouse, and Seth basically didn't stop talking the entire time.

Better yet, Leah was wearing a shapeless, loose shirt and baggy jeans. He thought about his own prolonged attempts to find the right outfit and wondered if Sue had specifically made her put on these particular clothes. He actually kind of hoped it was Sue's idea, because if it wasn't, it might mean that Leah herself really had felt his hard-on shoved against her backside and was worried about a repeat performance.

On the other hand, when she asked him if he'd be back at the same time that night, it probably meant she hadn't noticed anything (or it meant, impossibly, that she liked it, in which case he really was a dead man). Now he was thankful that Allison had caught him that morning. He told her he really couldn't come over at night anymore and exaggerated how angry his mother had been (while entirely skipping over the hideous sex talk). Leah looked terribly disappointed and decided to hug him fiercely in a display of loyalty, which was really really nice because he got a chance to feel against his chest what he'd been failing to spot under her shirt all day long, especially since his position and the perfect pair of shorts rendered his reaction invisible to her.

Nice. He was getting a hang of this, wasn't he?

X-x-x-x-X

Actually no, he wasn't. It only got worse. Sam had hoped that as he got used to his body's new reaction to Leah, it would get better. The little demon in his pants (it was going to get bigger, wasn't it? And not just in the way that it did when Leah was around?) was trying very hard to get him in trouble. He learned how to position it safely, because when it decided to rear up its evil head and take a look around, he refused and forced it to stay hidden. Initially he thought that that meant it should point down, not up, because then he might even be able to wedge it between his legs. But then that happened once (Leah dropped her pencil on the floor and she bent down to get it), and well, ow! Apparently it didn't bend that way, who knew? So no, it had to go up. Straight up was best, because he could hide it behind the fold of his zipper and fly. Too far to the left or right and the bulge was asymmetric and obvious. Once when she showed up to his house wearing a fitted scoop neck top, he had to have an entire conversation with one hand awkwardly shoved in his pocket. He was pretty sure she noticed, too, although he didn't think she knew why he was so very stock still. Then he quickly learned what he should and should not wear around Leah: briefs, not boxers. Slightly baggy pants with belts, never low-riders. Untucked shirts.

Was this why he was the only boy he knew who had a girl best friend?

Bobby and Johnny all but confirmed it one Friday night when Leah was having Emily over for a sleepover. He was sitting on Bobby's couch hunched over an Xbox controller. Bobby was sitting in a funny little chair on the floor which he swore was supposed to be specifically made for video games. Johnny was perched on the coffee table eating chips noisily and watching them play Madden while waiting not very patiently for his turn to take on the winner.

"I think I got a glimpse of side boob in gym class today," Johnny announced.

Bobby didn't look away from the screen, but he answered, "Oh yeah? Whose?"

"Either Becca's or Rachel's. I still can't tell them apart."

Bobby grinned either way. "Nice! The twins are hot!"

But Sam was skeptical. "How'd you get a look at that? The girls aren't allowed to wear tank tops in gym. Plus wasn't there a bra?"

"Baggy sleeves, dude!" Johnny explained. "She picked up her arm to reach for the ball and I caught a quick peek!"

"What color was her bra?" Bobby wanted to know.

"White," Johnny answered definitively.

"Not bad, but Rachel and Becca don't have that much to show off yet. So I think you got a glimpse of bra, not side boob," Bobby answered. "Too bad it wasn't Leah. Now _that_ would have been something to see."

Sam's tongue tangled in his mouth as he tried to figure out what to say. He was pretty sure Leah wouldn't like his friends talking about her like this, but if he defended her too quickly they'd start harassing him about his "girlfriend" again. Instead he decided to deflect attention away from her. "Stacy's are bigger."

Johnny snorted. "Yeah, but only 'cause she's all chubby. She's like two of Leah," he paused to illustrate by holding his hands out to approximate her girth, "but less than half as hot."

Bobby agreed. "Yeah. Leah's like a 10. Stacy's boobs may be bigger, but she's, um, maybe a 4. Probably even lower if it weren't for the boobs."

Sam wasn't sure if he should be angry or if he should agree. She really wouldn't like being ranked, would she? Even if she was being ranked at the top? And she'd be pissed at him for talking about Stacy that way. He felt guilty, but the words had already come out of his mouth. Johnny jumped in before he did. "Leah's not a 10. Megan Fox is a 10."

Sam barely stopped himself from automatically arguing that no, Leah was an 11 (Megan Fox was an 8 at best because she looked kind of like plastic-really attractive plastic). Bobby clarified. "Okay, sure. But of all the girls you've ever actually seen in real life, who's the hottest?"

"Alexa," Johnny answered immediately.

Sammy disagreed silently. The answer was still Leah. Although maybe he thought that because he was the only one of the three of them who had ever seen her in her pyjamas and without a bra on. He wanted to keep it that way, so he kept his mouth shut. Bobby laughed, "Fine. But she's a senior. She's basically a grown up, and if you think you have a shot with a senior in high school, go for it!"

Johnny took this the wrong way. "You didn't ask me who I thought I could get with. You think I have a shot with Leah though? She's our age, and she's got hot boobs. And a hot face. And a hot ass."

Bobby actually looked away from the game, inadvertently allowing Sam to score a touchdown. "Are you crazy? Sam's sitting right there! She's his girl!"

Sam and Johnny simultaneously yelled that Leah wasn't his girl, but Johnny took this to mean that Leah was fair game.

Thankfully Bobby thought that was hilarious. "She's way out of your league, man. Just like Alexa. But, you know, good luck to you! Make sure to let me know when you ask her out, because I want to hear how she shoots you down!" And Sam was deeply thankful that he didn't have to straighten out Johnny by himself. What would he do if Leah started dating somebody else? It was unthinkable.

Then Johnny asked him a question he hated. "So why isn't she your girl? She's crazy pretty, she's got a great rack, and for some reason she doesn't think you're a total tool."

"I don't like her like that!" he insisted. He was pretty sure he wasn't fooling anyone, but it couldn't hurt to try. "She's like, she's like my sister!"

Bobby took advantage of his distraction and scored a touchdown of his own. "Still hung up on Lily?"

Was it better to let them think he was obsessed with some older girl he couldn't care less about? He didn't want to trade being teased about Leah for being teased about someone else. "Nah. She's nice to look at, sure, but so are a bunch of other girls."

"Yeah? Like who?" Johnny persisted.

Sam shrugged and picked the first other girl that happened to spring to mind. "Olivia's pretty cool."

"Oh!" Johnny decided this was a very meaningful answer. "So you're not with Leah because you're stuck on Liv!"

He protested, but now there was nothing he could do about it. By the next day the entire school thought he had a crush on Olivia. And to his mortification, on four separate occasions over the next week he caught Liv staring at him with a little smile on her face. He was so mortified by what he had done that he didn't make the connection with Leah's sudden bad mood.

X-x-x-x-X

Sam managed to avoid Olivia, who thankfully was too shy to do anything more than peek at him from across the room. But he couldn't stay away from Leah if he tried. He had learned to sleep in his own bed, sort of, but that didn't stop him from racing out of the house early to make sure he walked with her to school, and his favorite part of day was the afternoon when school let out and he went to her house until Allison was finished at work.

It was Seth, charming little Seth, who instigated the next drama. Her little brother was even trying to do them a favor. It was a Saturday night and Emily was visiting. Sam never knew exactly what to say to Emily, and Emily definitely didn't know what to say to Sam. They were both shy, and each of them was most comfortable talking to Leah by themselves. Sammy no longer resented Emily the way he had when they were little, but she seemed scared to talk to him. That made him nervous to talk back to her, and he could never figure out what to say, and the more he tried to figure out what to say, the harder it became. And on more than one occasion, he had felt the sensation of eyes on his back and turned to find her blushing and looking away, and he was pretty sure she'd been staring at him. It made him nervous. He felt about her like he felt about every girl who wasn't his LeeLee: girls were practically aliens, and he didn't know what to do with them.

But he no longer felt like avoiding Leah just because her cousin was visiting. He wasn't about to let the other girl come between him and his best friend, and Leah basically begged him to come over so they could all spend time together. She was impossible to resist, so he stopped trying.

The three of them watched a lot of movies. They all liked them, and better yet, Sammy and Emily weren't expected to talk to each other when one was on. Tonight it was James Bond. Sammy and Leah were curled up on her couch with a bowl of popcorn wedged between them. Emily was huddled under a blanket in Harry's recliner, and Seth was on the floor. Sam would rather have had Leah as close as possible instead of the big bowl, but he had learned his lesson about the potential for embarrassment with close physical proximity. Seth had already eaten his fill of the salty snack and went to get a glass of soda to quench his thirst. He offered to bring back root beers for everyone, and Emily and Leah both accepted.

He approached his sister with not two but three glasses precariously suspended between his small hands, and being the thoughtful boy he was, he was watching the liquid very carefully in order not to spill it. Which meant that he didn't see the magazine that had slipped to the floor. Which meant that he went careening forward when he stepped on it. Which meant that the dark liquid shot forward from his hands and landed all over Leah. Which rendered her yellow shirt transparent. Which meant that Sam found out that Leah wasn't wearing a bra. Oh god.

Sam fled the house when Leah went to change. He ran past his mother and claimed to be covered in sticky soda (it wasn't a complete lie, he had the stain on his shirt to prove it). He locked himself in the shower, and for the first time in his adolescence, he was unable to resist the urge to think about her while he... while he... oh god... oh LeeLee... oh god... LeeLee... LeeLee... Leah... Leah!

It was the first time, but it was far from the last.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410 for being a great beta. All mistakes are mine.


	11. Waves

After that he had a lot of trouble looking her in the eye, but looking farther down her body was no good either for those very same reasons, so he ended up staring at points beyond her shoulder or closely examining her hairline (Leah would later tell him that she spent much of this time period thinking something was wrong with her hair). His only other alternative was to turn his back on her, but he had done that before, and it was terrible for both of them.

This wasn't a comfortable solution, of course, and if it wasn't for his natural quietness and her pre-existing ability to read him like a book, he might have developed a speech impediment around her, or they might not have remained friends. But the fact was that she knew him almost as well as he knew himself, even his deepest, darkest secret, and she knew what he meant without him having to say, just like when they were babies crawling around his mother's ankles.

As a result they had conversations that simply perplexed everyone else. It wasn't anything as elaborate as the personal language Rachel and Rebecca had invented when they were small, nor did they finish each other's sentences, exactly. It sounded more like they started conversations out loud but finished them via some kind of psychic link.

One September Saturday over breakfast, Leah asked, "D'ya wanna..."

Sammy nodded. "Y-Yeah, um, but if we don't..."

"Oh, you're right. How about..."

"That's, that's perfect! I was thinking about that anyway."

"Great. So should I bring..." Harry looked back and forth between them as if he was watching a tennis match being played with invisible rackets.

"Uh, yeah. And make sure you've got your..."

"I do. They're packed together. Can you show me..." Now Harry wondered why Sammy looked as if he might be blushing under his brown skin.

"Of course. You're getting really good at..."

"Liar, I suck at it! You're so much better!" Walking behind Leah with a skillet of hash browns, Sue shrugged at her husband. She had no idea what the kids were talking about either.

"No, I've just had more practice. And it's not me, it's thanks to..."

"Of course it's thanks to you, who else could it be?"

"You know that..."

"Pfft. You're the one who practiced. If I was half as..."

"You will be. You'll be better than me. I'll help..."

"You're such a good teacher! If it weren't for you, I'd..."

"I'd never let you drown! I'd..."

At this point, Harry broke in and wanted to know why Leah thought she was going to drown, and how Sam planned on stopping it, and where were they going, anyway?

"Surfing!" Leah declared.

Sammy's ears were definitely pink. Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy, who was staring intently at the sausage patty he was cutting into miniscule pieces.

"Surfing? Where'd you learn to surf?"

"Sammy's showing me how."

Harry was concerned. "On what?"

"He's got a board. And when we were at the beach last weekend we shared his, then some guy let me borrow his for a while."

Harry put his fork down. "What guy? Who is this guy? Do I know him?" He was nervous enough about Sam, but he was downright alarmed by the idea of strange men hanging around his beautiful little girl.

"A friend of Sammy's. Dylan Tate, Megan's big brother."

Harry looked back at Sam, who had stuffed six of the tiny pieces of sausage into his mouth all at once. "You're friends with that Tate kid?" There was nothing wrong with Tate, actually, as far as he knew. But it was odd that the older boy would take an interest in Sam, and the only reasons he could think of that Dylan might take an interest in Leah made his blood boil.

Sammy shrugged noncommittally. "Not friends, really."

"But you know him?"

More shrugging. "He's at the beach a lot. Showed me a couple things on my board."

"What does he want with Leah?"

As usual, Leah had the answers. "Want with me? Nothing. His girlfriend wanted him to hang out with her instead of surfing, so he let me borrow it for a bit since it was just sitting there. I mostly just lay on it and paddled around."

Oh. Harry calmed down slightly. Sue broke in. "That sounds like fun, right? And it won't be much longer that the kids can go swimming. It'll be too cold. Kind of already is."

Harry thought of his daughter starting to outgrow her modest one-piece swimsuit. "If you guys are going to be surfing, I'd better get you a wetsuit for next season."

The thought of a wetsuit actually made Sammy feel better. The only way he had gotten through their last excursion to the beach was by staying at a minimum depth of waist deep in the frigid Pacific. And that was despite the fact that Leah's swimsuit was as boring a suit as he had ever seen. What would he do if she ever wore a bikini in front of him?

X-x-x-x-X

Lucky for him Leah didn't have a bikini yet, and swimming and surfing seasons were very nearly over. Soon autumn was upon them. Sam thought that it would be safer than summer's tank tops and short shorts. But then Leah came to school in a nicely fitted, fuzzy red sweater, a pleated plaid skirt that didn't reach her knees, and white knee socks. Sam just about died when he saw her. His hand itched to touch the soft sweater and what was underneath.

He had thought he had gotten his reactions in control, but nope. Not one bit. He stammered and stuttered when she spoke to him, but she had gotten used to this long ago and didn't hold it against him, thank goodness. And he knew now that the only thing he could really do wrong was push her away, so he just kept quiet. It helped that she was wearing a trenchcoat as they walked to school, so he didn't get the full effect of her outfit until homeroom, when he wasn't supposed to talk to her anyway. And now that they were sitting at different lunch tables, it was easy avoiding her for most of the day. If she caught his glance, he just nodded his head briefly in acknowledgement and looked quickly away. She didn't mind. When they walked to her house together after school, he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut to keep anything stupid from coming out. Thankfully she didn't mind the silence between them. Comfortable, she would have called it, had she a reason to name it.

He pretended to focus on his homework while they sat together at her kitchen table. It was hard to get anything done, especially since they were eating powdered donut holes as a snack, and she kept licking her lips to catch stray bits of sugar. He kept stuffing more food in his mouth to keep from having to talk, and he completely spoiled his dinner. He was certain she had caught him staring at her at least a couple times before Seth got home and rescued him from humiliating himself further, but she didn't say anything. She seemed to know he didn't want to talk, and he was grateful.

She knew him so well, better than anyone else, his mother included. She knew almost everything about him that there was to know. The irony was that the only thing she didn't realize was how he really felt about her. In retrospect it seemed so silly, and he wondered how she'd managed to miss it. Wasn't he completely and totally obvious? He certainly felt like he had been.

X-x-x-x-X

Eighth grade passed in this fashion, with Leah growing ever lovelier and Sam becoming ever more smitten. He continued hiding behind feigned interest in other girls for his own safety, and in response she gained a slightly melancholy air around him that he totally failed to understand. But he wasn't about to give her up, nor she him, so they continued to hold one another at arm's length without ever letting go.

Meanwhile Leah's friendship with Emily blossomed. Sam understood that now there were some things that Leah shared with Emily that she did not share with him. He desperately wanted to know what they were. Some afternoons when he was at her house, her phone would ring and she'd talk in tones too low for him to hear while peeking over her shoulder at him. It drove him crazy, and not just because he wanted to know what she was talking about. Her dimple tended to make appearances when she was talking to Emily, and he wanted to kiss it in a different way than he had when they were small. He wanted to kiss her in a completely different way altogether.

He still remembered the sweetness of her lips and the soft, silky texture of her cheek. He would never forget the warmth that flowed from her into him. The tingle. He was sure he could be old and gray and senile, with no teeth in his mouth and only two memories left in his brain, and that would be one of them.

Lying in his bed, he thought about her lips, her eyes, her skin, her hair, and her shape. He felt bad, because what meant the most to him was her generous heart, her humor and wit, her passion and spirit, but what kept him up at night was her beauty and her body.

He was turning into an insomniac. Every night he would review little details about her from that day: the way her jeans hugged her hips, a glimpse of skin between her shirt and her pants, the sheen of gloss on her mouth, a peek of her bra strap. He would try his damndest to recall something different, to stop his train of thought before it derailed into a fantasy, but thinking about not thinking about her was impossible. So he constructed clumsy illusions about what she looked like under her clothes or would feel like pressed against him. The visions taunted him behind his closed lids, rendering him helpless and desperate. Each night he failed to resist the temptation to relieve the ache, believing he was bad for defiling her in his mind. He always slept restlessly afterward, being unused to sleeping alone.

And the next morning when he saw her smiling at him with unadulterated happiness, he felt crushing guilt and couldn't look her in the eye. Worse than that, he was certain she noticed his nervousness, because her smile would falter a little when he couldn't return it wholeheartedly. That made him feel even worse. He was making her self conscious, causing her to doubt his dedication to their friendship, because he ran alternately hot and cold. The joy she expressed was marred with insecurity, and he hated that he made her feel that way.

But he couldn't bring himself to stay away, nor did he know how to stop.

He tried to distract himself by exercising himself into exhaustion. The tribal school didn't have enough money (or students, for that matter) to maintain its own teams, but the parks and recreation department in Forks had basketball, soccer, and baseball. He was old enough for their soccer league, so he joined that team in the fall when he realized he was tall enough to use Joshua's abandoned mountain bike to ride back and forth. He found that the exertion rendered him tired enough that he fell asleep quickly when he finally tried to sleep (although not so tired that he couldn't conjure up a good fantasy of Leah beforehand). It kept him from losing sleep over his guilt, although not from the source of his guilt. And an unexpected bonus was that taking up his evenings with matches forced him to actually get his homework done in the afternoon, so he was able to focus on his work instead of how good she looked seated across from him over her kitchen table.

By the spring, when the youth basketball leagues scheduled their practices and games right after school, they switched their routine. Sam walked Joshua's bike to school at Leah's side, biked directly from school to the athletic center, and then went home for dinner. But he wasn't about to forgo his time with his best friend, even if she was becoming so beautiful that it turned his brain to mush, so he'd head to her house to do his homework after he ate and leave whenever Sue or Harry kicked him out. Leah, in turn, was inspired by his new fitness regimen to start her own, and she started jogging along the beach or the forest paths while Sammy was shooting hoops.

Then summer rolled around again, and Sam discovered that Leah's running had really toned her long legs, but it hadn't kept the rest of her from continuing to develop. Her curves were more pronounced than they had been the last time he saw her in a swimsuit.

It didn't help that Leah went shopping with Emily instead of her mother. The older girl had been told by her new boyfriend that she'd look better in a bikini than a one-piece, but she was too embarrassed to buy one by herself and took Leah along. Sam hadn't ever met the guy, who himself was apparently three years older than Emily, and he wasn't really listening as the girls discussed Emily's new relationship. If he had, he would have realized that Mark didn't sound like a very nice person, because other than the fact that Emily thought he was "exciting" and the fact that she liked how little her parents liked him, she didn't have much positive to say about him.

Sam missed all these nuances, however, because the conversation about Mark happened during their first trip to the beach in which Leah wore her infamous new bikini. Earlier in the season they had gone surfing, and Sam had enough trouble keeping his eyes trained on appropriate parts of her body her despite the fact that she was wearing Harry's promised wetsuit, which provided as much coverage as a skin-tight outfit possibly could.

He had thought that she was wearing it again since she left the house in it, which was odd because she didn't have her board with her that day (Emily didn't know how to surf and Leah didn't want to leave her by herself on the beach). But after they arrived and spread out their towels, happy to have a sunny day, Leah started to unzip the wetsuit, and Sam thought his eyes might fall right out of his head.

He really hoped he wasn't drooling. And that she couldn't see his burgeoning erection. Maybe he needed to condition himself against his body's response to her. Would it help if, each night, instead of fantasizing about her, he looked at a photo of Leah and then punched himself hard in the crotch? Would that stop this from happening? He shifted his board from his side to cover his crotch as she worked the gray and pink neoprene off her shoulders. He tightened his grip on it when she leaned over and peeled the material over her legs, her round bottom pointed right at him. He gulped and cleared his throat when she turned to listen to Emily, who was standing behind him, and he tried not to gape at her chest.

He failed.

Her bikini was halter style, baby blue, and quite simple. It was perfect. She was perfect. It was like her chest was framed just for him. Maybe it was the way the fabric pushed her breasts together, or maybe they were really just that big now, but she had cleavage, and he could basically see all of it.

He was finally broken from his Leah-induced trance by a football hitting him upside the head. He lost his balance, his unwieldy board throwing him off, and he landed in the sand underneath it. Too late, he retrospectively realized that someone had been calling out, "Uley, heads up!"

Thankfully, Leah was too concerned about a potential concussion to dwell on the fact that he had been ogling her. She yelped in alarm and rushed over to check his scalp and in doing so leaned over him, bringing her lovely Leah-scent and tempting breasts just inches from his face. He gripped the board more tightly against him. She took this as disorientation on his part and tried to pry it out of his hands so she could look him over. He held fast.

It was only the arrival of Dylan, who had apparently thrown the football, that rescued him. But his relief was short lived.

"Dude, you okay? I thought you heard me."

"I... I... Yeah. No, I didn't. I mean, yeah, I'm okay."

Dylan smirked at him. "Playing it up for your girlfriend, huh, Uley?"

Too quickly, he insisted, "She's not my girlfriend!"

He didn't really notice how intently Emily was watching them, because Dylan turned to Leah as Sam sat up in the sand. "No, huh? How old are you now, Leah?" Unlike Sam, he didn't even try to hide that he was staring at her chest.

"Fourteen." Leah shifted back and forth on her feet, uncertain what else to do or say.

"Oh!" Dylan looked startled and stepped back. "You don't look like it! Um, I mean, you look real nice. Uh, I mean, uh..."

Leah shrugged and looked behind him. "Thanks, that's sweet of you to say," she said guilelessly. "So where's your girlfriend?"

"She, um, she's not around..."

Emily finally stepped in and looped arms with her younger cousin. "Maybe you should look for her?"

"Sure." Dylan scurried off. "See ya' round, Uley."

Emily turned to Leah. "I think he's a little old for you."

"What?" Leah had apparently missed the way Dylan had been leering at her, which made Sam both nervous for her safety and relieved that she might not have noticed him gaping at her in much the same way. She really didn't seem to have any idea how beautiful she was.

"That guy. I think he might have been too old for you, Leah."

"For me? What are you talking about? He's got a girlfriend. And he's three years older than me. Isn't Mark eighteen?"

Emily giggled a little. "Okay, fine. I didn't say he was good for me either." Then she glanced at Sam, who had righted himself finally but was still holding his board in front of him. He didn't know what to make of her expression. "C'mon. Let's get in the water before some creepy old dude comes by to hit on you."

Leah followed, but she still didn't get it. She shook her head and smiled innocently. "Em's seeing things."

"Mark thought you were his age when he saw you last month, Leah."

"He must not have been looking at me, then!"

"Oh," Emily sighed and muttered, "he was looking alright."

Leah didn't hear her. "Are you coming, Sammy?"

He figured the cold water would do him good, so he went. He was pretty sure that he just looked like a skinny, drowned rat in the water, but Leah, it turned out, only looked better. He lay on his surfboard near the girls watching droplets cling to her skin until he felt like the kind of pervert Emily was unsuccessfully trying to warn Leah about. He finally paddled off to find non existent waves.

Washington's cloudy weather kept them from spending the entire summer on the beach, but they kept going, sometimes with Emily, often with Seth, twice with the Black kids (who didn't want to come out very much since their mother had died) and Bella Swan, occasionally alone. They both got better at surfing, although she never brought her board when Emily came, as Emily steadfastly refused to try to stand on the board. They watched the older teens jump from the cliff, and Leah wanted to try it herself. But the opportunities to do so were rare, because Leah refused to let Seth even consider it, and she didn't want to leave him behind and make him feel left out. Emily, on the other hand, she urged to jump with her, but Emily was appalled by the idea, so Leah stayed on the beach with her too.

But on a sunny day in June, they were by themselves. They grinned at each other as soon as they realized they had their opportunity. They wedged their boards in the sand and headed straight for the path to the cliff, and Sam made sure to run behind Leah so he could look at her bottom, her long legs, and the expanse of golden skin across her back. When they ascended the ledge, it was empty. Two other people had jumped moments before they got there, and Sam could see them swimming for shore.

"This is great!" Leah's eyes were sparkling, her smile was wide, and her dimples had appeared in each cheek. He wanted to squeeze her tightly in his arms and cover her face with kisses before tasting her lips.

Instead he grinned back at her. "It's perfect."

She held out her hand. "Come with me?"

He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her waist, but he took her hand gladly. "Anywhere."

She tugged him forward, and then they were flying. It was exhilarating, but somewhere between the ledge and the water, they lost their grip on each other. When Sam surfaced, he didn't just want her back, he needed her. The moment he saw her head bob up out of the water, he propelled himself toward her. Just as he saw her ecstatic expression, he reached her and threw his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. For a blissful second, he felt her warm skin flush against his. It was as soft as he imagined it. It was bliss. Or it was until they started to sink, their tangled legs unable to properly tread the water.

They separated and emerged sputtering. "You goof!" She was laughing, and he saw her dimples again as she reached for him. She didn't realize he was ridiculously trying to give her a hug in the middle of the ocean, she thought he was playing. So she returned the favor and tried to dunk him. He let her, and then he grabbed at her legs. She joined him under the surface, and they rose up together. He splashed her, and she splashed him back, and he didn't think it was possible to be so happy.

They only had a couple more perfect days like that, just the two of them. Seth or Emily usually joined them. He'd have preferred to have her all to himself, but Sam tried not to mind the other girl's presence too much, particularly since she seemed to do a decent job of keeping predatory teenaged boys and men away from Leah. His best friend continued to be oblivious to the effect she had on the opposite sex, including himself. Apparently he was doing a very convincing job of fooling her into thinking he had crushes on other girls, because every time they saw Lily or Olivia or Megan at the beach, she seemed to get a little nervous. He suspected that she didn't want him to ditch her to hang out with one of them, and of course he never intended to do anything of the sort. Even if he was interested in them, which he unequivocally was not, he wouldn't leave her side for fear of leaving her undefended. He couldn't stop other guys from ogling her, but as long as he stuck by her side, they at least tended to do it from afar. So he kept careful watch up and down the beach looking out for his competition, not realizing that the entire time, she thought he was looking at other girls.

They continued the awkward dance all summer long.

X-x-x-x-X

That changed on the very first day of high school. The other building was situated only a block away from the larger building that housed both the elementary school and junior high, but it felt miles away. Sammy was used to being the tallest boy around; his growth continued to outpace everyone else in his class. But here he felt average, if anything. It was a disconcerting feeling.

Leah's appearance didn't help settle his nerves one bit. After bikini season, he'd have thought that a pair of tightly fitted jeans and a strappy tank top wouldn't render him senseless, but it did. The jeans hugged her in a way that made him want to cup her bottom in his hands. And her neckline was high enough that it didn't show off a significant amount of cleavage, but the little hint he could barely see drove him mad. Going to school wasn't too bad, as he walked next to her and tried to keep his eyes forward, nor was sitting behind her in homeroom. He was thankful for her long, shiny hair, since it blocked his view of the soft-looking skin of her shoulders and upper back. But then she'd pull it over one shoulder or run her fingers through it, and he'd get a peek of the rich color of her skin, and he'd lose track of whatever the teacher was talking about.

At lunchtime he wasn't quite certain what to do. He had spent most of the summer with her and had only occasionally seen Bobby. He would sit and stare at her all day long if he could, but not only would she not appreciate that, he might start high school as a social pariah. He was considering what to do when the bell rang and she turned around in her seat. "I'll see you by the lockers at the end of the day?"

They had had all their morning classes together, but after lunch he had gym when she had art, and she was taking biology while he had earth science. He nodded at her gratefully, and the Black twins took her away. They still gave him dirty glances, and he was fairly certain they weren't ever going to forgive him for his old cruelty to Leah (which was fine, because he wasn't planning on forgiving himself either).

After grabbing his lunch from his locker, he found Bobby and Johnny at the end of a long table. He picked the seat next to Johnny, as it afforded him a good view of Leah, who was two tables away with the girls. He chatted with his friends about their summers. Johnny had spent most of the season with his grandmother a couple hours south on the Quinault reservation. He told them about a girl he had met while he was there, and Sam was pretty sure that none of Johnny's supposed exploits were true. Bobby called him out on it, declaring that the only one of the three of them who had gotten any action was Sam.

Sam's mouth dropped open. "What are you talking about?"

"Dude, you spent the entire summer in the company of at least one hot chick, if not two! I saw you with Leah and that other girl."

Sam immediately protested. "Leah's not a hot girl!"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You're blind or a liar." He was a liar.

"It's not... it's not like that!" he insisted.

"Whatever," Bobby took a bite of his sandwich. "If you're not with her, you're staring at her. Like you were a second ago."

"Was not!"

Johnny interrupted. "Wait, who's the other girl? Was she hot too?"

"Yeah," Bobby nodded. "Sam's a pimp, man. Who was she?"

"Is the other girl why you're not with Leah? Were you with her? Who is she?" Johnny was insistent.

Sam vehemently shook his head. This time it didn't even occur to him to pretend to have a crush on Emily. Why would he look at Emily when Leah was standing next to her? And why couldn't the guys leave him alone? "I'm not with either of them! Leah's like my sister, you guys know that. The other girl is Leah's cousin. Who has a boyfriend. Who is, you know, okay but boring."

"Leah's definitely not boring," Bobby laughed.

"And she's one hot sister. Who's totally staring right back at you, man. She totally likes you, dude." Johnny looked smug.

Sam looked up, and to his dismay, Johnny was right. Leah was looking at him, and the expression on her face was definitely nervous. She glanced away as soon as his eyes met hers, but he knew she had heard everything he had said. This was so complicated. Why couldn't it just go back to the two of them, alone, without everyone else around making things worse?

"There's no way she likes me. Not like that." The thought just boggled his mind. Impossible.

Johnny shrugged. "You keep telling yourself that."

Bobby was blatantly turned around looking at Leah, but Rebecca had spotted the boys, and Rachel moved to try to block their view.

"She is so fine," Bobby muttered.

Johnny smirked. "If you don't like her, maybe I'll ask her out."

"You can't do that!" Sam blurted out.

Bobby snickered at him as Johnny added, "But you don't like her like that, not at all. You're so pussywhipped."

It was true.

But at the end of the day, it was neither Johnny, Bobby, nor Leah herself who finally propelled him into action. It was Brian Lincoln, the very same bully who had called Leah a boy when they were small. She had gotten to her locker before Sam did; their entire class only held a dozen students, so even though their names were at opposite ends of the alphabet, their lockers were still only feet apart.

As Sam approached, she was putting something on the floor and leaning over. Brian had just turned from his locker on the opposite side of the hall, and he was blatantly checking out her figure. Then he approached her. When she closed the door and turned around, Brian was right there.

"Oh!" She took an involuntary step backward, but there was nowhere to go. She bumped against the metal with a little clang.

Brian put a hand out against the metal, leaning over her. He licked his lips and took a peek down her shirt, apparently liking what he saw. "Hey, Clearwater."

"Um, hi Brian."

Brian tilted back a little and brought his eyes up to hers. He flashed her a grin and ran his free hand through his hair. "Not a little kid anymore, huh? How was your first day of high school?"

"Yeah, um, it was fine."

Sam was frozen in place. What was going on? Something bad, he was sure of it. Why wouldn't his feet move?

"How'd you like Mrs. Ithaca in algebra?"

Leah smiled a little at that. The diminutive, elderly teacher was well known for her permanent scowl and mustache. "She's okay."

"Kind of a battle axe though, yeah?"

Leah's initial surprise wore off, and her normally bold personality took over. "If she is, it's because guys like you made her that way. I'll bet she started off sweet and nice."

"That's kind of hard to imagine."

Leah was smiling now, just a little and only on one side of her mouth. Her eyes were sparkling. "No it's not. If I were her, and I had to deal with punks like you every day, I'd get bitter too."

Brian's smile turned from slightly lascivious to genuinely amused. "Seriously? Are you calling me a punk?"

"Maybe I am," Leah shrugged.

Sam could see Brian's eyes flicking between Leah's lips and her eyes. "You're really something, you know that, Clearwater?"

"Really?" she challenged. "What? What am I?"

Brian leaned back in, and to Sam's infinite horror, he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Leah's ear. "Pretty, Leah, you're real pretty."

Leah's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open a little in surprise. Sam couldn't believe she hadn't seen it coming. She was truly shocked. He wasn't. He was nauseated.

When she didn't say anything, Brian took it as an opportunity and went for the kill. "How'd you like to go out with me sometime, Leah? I've got a car. We could head to Port Angeles for dinner and a movie."

Sam felt like his life was flashing before his eyes. But it wasn't his past, it was his future. The one he had desperately trying to ignore for so long. He was supposed to be by her side, not some random guy. He was supposed to be the one tucking her hair behind her ear and leaning close to her. He was supposed to be the one who was about to bend down and kiss her. They were supposed to be together. They were childhood sweethearts, he finally realized, who were supposed to grow up together, go to college together, have adventures together.

Was it too late? Had he been too afraid for too long? His future was slipping away from him.

"What do you say?" Brian swallowed, staring at her full lips.

"I... I..."

Sam finally found his voice. "LeeLee, please." Their heads snapped toward him. Brian was scowling, but Leah looked... hopeful? Was that it?

"Sammy?"

His feet, which until then felt like they were made of lead, finally moved at his instruction.

"Get out of here, Uley," Brian gestured dismissively with his chin. "We're in the middle of a conversation. A private conversation."

Leah ignored Brian. "Please what?"

Why hadn't he done this months ago, years ago, the right way? "Please, LeeLee." He couldn't find the right words. But she always knew what he meant, didn't she? She always did. Usually he didn't even need to say anything, but she still knew what he meant.

Brian straightened to his full height and put his hands on his hips. "I'd say you're babbling, Uley, but you're not even doing that. Get out of here. She's with me."

She was still staring at him, and he could see on her face that she really didn't know. It was absurd. She knew every single thing about him, but she didn't know this. How was it possible? Hadn't he been drooling over her for over a year?

He still couldn't figure out what to say. He ought to have a whole romantic speech prepared. He should have written something down. He always had an easier time figuring out what to say when he had time to stop and think. But there was no time.

"Sammy?" she asked again.

He finally blurted, "But she's not supposed to be with you. She's supposed to be with me. I'm hers, and she's mine, and we belong to each other."

He should have seen Brian's fists clenching at his sides. He should have noticed the anger on the older boy's face. Instead he was watching the most beautiful smile spread across LeeLee's face. Her eyes lit up. He thought there was a blush underneath her caramel skin. And then her dimples appeared.

He would have melted into a puddle of lovestruck goo if Brian hadn't stepped forward and shoved him back. He bounced against someone's open locker door and tripped onto the floor. "You little shithead!"

"Sam! Brian, don't!" Leah rushed forward and tried to pull Brian away. He looked back at her and tried to shake his arm free. Sam took advantage of his distraction to hook his ankle around Brian's and sweep his leg out from underneath him.

The senior landed on the floor with a startled curse, and Sam scrambled to get up. He'd have scooted backward and out of Brian's reach, but Leah was too close. He reached to pull her out of the way, and Brian, still on the floor, braced his hands on the tile and kicked out with his feet.

Sam landed against a sophomore, since a crowd was gathering around them. As they untangled themselves, Brian stood up and strode toward him, roughly shoving Leah out of the way, where she careened into a locker.

Sam saw red. He didn't really care about Brian fighting him, but hurting Leah like that was off limits. He bent in a low crouch and sprang forward, shoving his shoulder into Brian's gut and knocking him back again. "Don't you dare touch her!" As his opponent fell back on the floor, he pinned him down with his knees and pulled his own fist back, ready to pummel him. But an iron grip wrapped around his wrist and stopped him cold. He found himself being dragged backward forcefully, and when he finally got his bearings, Mr. Rodgers, the science teacher, was hauling Brian to his feet, and Mrs. Ithaca was pulling him toward the principal's office. He gawked at her. She was a head shorter than he and more than half a century older, but she was apparently as strong as an ox. She had been the one to yank him off Brian.

Enough spectators confirmed that he had only been defending himself and Leah, so Brian got suspended for a week (it was apparently far from his first offence), while Sam got detention.

He hardly cared about the punishment. Because when he emerged from the school, Leah was sitting on the curb. She stood up and turned toward him, and sure enough, she was still the prettiest girl he had ever seen, with the loveliest smile aimed at him, and the warmest heart he had ever known. "Is this going to be some kind of pattern?" she asked, and he knew she was thinking of the day in elementary school when he had fought Austin for her. "I really don't want you to get in trouble over me." He shrugged and grinned back at her. He'd earn himself detention every day if it got her to look at him the way she was now.

She opened her arms, and he swept her up, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in. She squeezed him back, and he never wanted to let go. She smelled so good, and she felt so soft, and he was so, so happy.

"Plus it took you long enough," she whispered in his ear.

He chuckled a little puff of air. "Detention? Or asking you to be my girlfriend?"

"Both." Her laughter vibrated her breasts against his chest. Oh man, he was a goner. He hugged her tighter.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410.


	12. Body and Soul

That very night, Sam and Leah shared their third kiss. And their fourth, fifth, sixth... He lost count at a dozen, and it also became difficult to count when one kiss ended and the next began.

Oddly, the kiss didn't happen in front of the school or during the walk home. At first Sam couldn't loosen his arms enough to be able to kiss her lips. He had spent so much of the summer trying to find excuses to touch her that now that he was able, he couldn't let go. He only released her when she laughingly told him that she had to get back to her house to take care of Seth, who had probably gotten home already. And she was supposed to be babysitting Collin Littlesea, whom Seth had hopefully walked back to their house. He reluctantly put her back on her feet and thanked her for waiting for him, but his disappointment at having to release her was short-lived because she immediately took his hand in hers.

It was far from the first time this had happened, although it had been years, but it felt completely different and exactly the same. It felt perfect. Sam didn't say anything all on the way back to her house. He just looked at her now that he didn't have to try not to stare at the joy in her eyes, the way her hair swished over her shoulders, at her gentle curves. And best of all, her adorable dimples kept showing themselves. It was a rare occurrence these days, actually, since she was losing the baby fat in her cheeks. He couldn't bring himself to be sad about the changes in her body since so many of them simply entranced him, but it was harder to bring her dimples out of hiding. So now that they were there, he couldn't stop looking.

Because of that, he tripped three separate times. It made her laugh, and when she laughed she was even prettier than usual, so he grinned stupidly at her, and she grinned back. But even though she was looking at him almost as much as he was looking at her, she didn't make a single misstep, and her tight grip actually kept him from falling down when he stumbled. He felt like an idiot. A really happy idiot.

They were giggling as they approached the house. Just before she placed her foot on the first step, he said her name. He didn't have something to say, or rather, didn't know how to tell her how he felt, so instead he just said, "LeeLee." She looked at him, wondering what was coming next.

He didn't stop to think. He did what felt natural. He twisted her around and closed the gap between them, pulling her toward him and bringing her in, flush to his front.

Ooh. He was grabbing her hips. Was he allowed to do that? It was too soon, right? Way too soon. He tightened his fingers involuntarily before swiftly releasing her. "You don't have to let go," she said softly.

How did she always know?

"Not ever?"

"Not ever." She put her arms around his neck. Standing on the step, she was exactly his height. "What took you so long, anyway?" she asked. "Too busy checking out all the other girls?" She was aiming for humor, but he heard the note of insecurity underneath. Ridiculous. What could she possibly be insecure about?

"Not once." He shook his head. "Never. Just you. I'm just kind of slow, you know that." She laughed. "But I figured it out eventually, right?"

"Took you long enough." Her voice was warm and free of bitterness.

It was the perfect moment. Even he could tell, and as he had just pointed out to her, he was not normally so quick on the uptake. He looked at her pretty lips, and there was no point in trying to resist them anymore. He tilted his head toward her.

The door opened with a bang. "Leah?" Collin's excited voice called out.

She chuckled. "Maybe you have to let go occasionally."

He rested his forehead against hers for a second before he let go of her, and she went inside to fix them snacks.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty normal except for the fact that Sam and Collin were both mooning over Leah. Sam wondered if his expression while looking at the beautiful girl was always as goofy as Collin's, and he decided that yes, it probably was. She set plates of pretzels and apple slices in front of them and Collin thanked her as if she had given him chocolate dipped in edible gold. For once Sam thought this was funny instead of getting jealous. After all, he knew she was his now, and it didn't hurt that Collin was only eight.

After that she sat across from him and just smiled at him. He smiled right back. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but even if the boys weren't interrupting them, he didn't have the words.

Seth picked up on their unusually good mood, because they weren't getting anything done at all. They did have moments like these, but one or the other of them would insist that they really, seriously had to finish at least one assignment before Sue got home. Not today.

As they burst into a round of giggles while staring at each other over their incomplete algebra homework, Seth finally asked, "What's with you guys?"

"We're happy," Leah explained.

And she was right.

Sammy couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. Nothing could bring him down from his high, not even when he realized he could have had this, this pure perfection, months or even years ago. When Seth and Collin left the kitchen table to watch television, Sam nervously asked, "LeeLee, I was wondering. When would you have..."

And as always, she knew exactly what he meant. "When wouldn't I have?"

He didn't quite believe it. It was too good to be true. "Honestly? Me?"

"You goof," she laughed. "Who else?"

"You should've said something!" After all, she had always led, and he had always followed. "You should've told me!"

She tilted her head. "You said I was like your sister! Like, dozens of times."

"That was to the guys, never to you. I tell them all sorts of things that don't mean anything."

She was chewing on her bottom lip, and it entranced him. "What about Lily and Liv and Megan?"

"What about them?" he shrugged. Who cared about them when his LeeLee was there all along?

She shook her head incredulously. "You're into them. They're pretty and everything. Lily's older than us, but I thought for sure you and Liv were going to go out. She likes you too, you know."

Now he actually laughed. "Too?" It was strange. He was so used to her just knowing. Apparently this time he had to actually say it out loud. "No. I've never... I've never liked her that way. I've never liked anybody but you that way, LeeLee." The smile that she gave him was definitely worth the effort it took to say. He'd have to remember that. "And you really, you really would have said yes if I'd asked you before?"

"Of course! I've always..." She dropped her eyes to her notebook, but he could see that she was still smiling. "I've always had a crush on you, Sammy."

His heart was racing in his chest. "Always?" He wanted to hear her say it again.

She looked up at him and her eyes were wide and bright. "Always. Um, mmm... How, um..."

It wasn't like her to stammer. So he knew what she was asking. "Oh. Same for me. Always." Her dimples reappeared, and he wanted to leap across the table and kiss them both. He would have, too, if Collin hasn't run back into the room asking for a glass of milk. Sam didn't even think he was thirsty. He just wanted an excuse to see Leah. It was frustrating, but he couldn't exactly blame the kid.

So his chance didn't come again until later that night. Between Seth, Collin, Harry, Sue, the furniture, and his own hesitancy, he was only able to obsess about her lips from across the room. It drove him crazy. He wasn't sure why it felt so much more intense than it had before. After all, he had been thinking about stealing kisses ever since they were six years old. He supposed it was because his fear was now gone. He was always worried that kissing her would mean losing her for some reason, and now that he knew she actually wanted him to, it was all he could think about.

That night during dinner, his mother picked up on his distraction. "Sam. Sam. Hello son. Earth to Sam! Hey!" She finally waved her hand right in front of his face.

"Huh? Oh, what?"

"I was asking you if you want seconds. But now I'm asking if you're okay. What's going on?"

"Uh, seconds are great. Everything's great!" He felt like keeping it to himself. She wouldn't be upset, he didn't think, since she absolutely loved Leah. But he recalled the humiliating sex talk he had endured the last time he had slept in Leah's bed, and he wasn't looking forward to an encore. Especially tonight. He was really hoping he'd be able to sneak over there tonight. Not for sex, of course... Unless... Unless...

"Sam?" Thank goodness she had interrupted him again. He really shouldn't be thinking about sex and Leah and... Wow. Sex and Leah. or even... Sex _with_ Leah. Wow.

"Sammy, seriously. Are you okay?"

Hastily he closed his mouth. Dammit, was he drooling again? Even though she wasn't even around? He was so dead. "Yeah. Yeah. I just didn't sleep that well last night."

"Maybe you should go to bed a little early."

Oh, that was perfect! Apparently his Leah-befuddled brain accidentally did him a favor.

After he did the dishes and took his shower, he stood in the middle of his room bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was still very light outside, much too early for sleeping. He wanted to rush back to Leah's house immediately, but he was worried his mother would peek in on him. And while she wouldn't object to him going over, she'd also then expect him back before long, and he really, really wanted to stay the night.

He was getting aroused just thinking about it.

Then again, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to sleep in her bed. He was fairly sure she'd let him kiss her, but unconsciously dry humping her while he slept probably wouldn't be so welcome. Would it? He had no idea how to find out. So he settled for sneaking over for goodnight kisses.

It was definitely a good move. She was waiting for him when he got there. The sun had set and her room was dark, but there was just enough light left in the sky to reveal her outline in her window. He couldn't remember ever being quite so excited to see her, which was saying a lot. Unfortunately, Harry and Sue were seated at the kitchen table drinking tea and chatting with one another, and if he tried climbing to the roof, they would inevitably see or hear him.

She started to slide her window open, but he quieted her with a finger against his lips, pointing at her parents beneath her. She nodded and mimed zipping her mouth shut. He carefully crept up the rope ladder to the treehouse, and from the little window in the side, held a silent conversation with her via a series of dramatic gestures and pantomimes. From this angle, Harry and Sue couldn't see him, so he turned on the flashlight they kept in the corner and made a spotlight for himself. She shook with quiet laughter as he demonstrated all the ways that her father would kill him if he found him in her room.

He couldn't see the kitchen window, but he did see the light from the room spilling onto porch and grass below. So as soon as it turned off, he gestured for her to get into bed and switched off his own flashlight. He ducked out of sight just as she slid under her sheets and Harry opened her door. Her father kissed her on the forehead as she looped her arms around his neck in a brief hug, and then she was alone. For a few seconds, at least. He scaled the trellis in record time, and then she was right there, leaning out her window. Warm and sweet and soft and beautiful and smiling and all his.

He never even made it through the window.

"I'm so glad you're..." she began to whisper.

But now that those lips were his, and he couldn't stay away from them any longer, not even to hear whatever she had to say. He gripped the sill tightly as he tilted toward her, and he cut her off with a kiss. And the most amazing sensation flooded his body. He couldn't get enough.

The first few kisses were chaste and fleeting, gentle soft brushes that only made him want more. He realized he was holding his breath and inhaled deeply and smelled the scent of her, of home, and he immediately had to know what she tasted like. So he followed his instincts and reached tentatively into the window and threaded his fingers through her hair and along her scalp. She melted against him, and he chanced a taste.

Her lips still tasted like bubblegum, just like he remembered, and she was so, so soft, and so sweet. And then her arms were around his shoulders and her hands were pressing into his back, and she was sighing against him.

And he was suddenly glad that there was a layer of siding, studs, and insulation between his hips and hers, because he was suddenly hard. The protection gave him the courage to wrap his other arm around her waist to draw her as close as he could, and to slip his tongue between her parted lips.

Oh wow. That was... She was... It was... so, so good.

He did it again. And again and again and again. He felt his brain melting inside his skull while his blood pooled between his legs. He sank his fingers into the giving flesh of her waist, and he slowly lost his mind.

But then a creak sounded from the floorboards just outside her room, and he released her and dropped to the scratchy shingles. She dove under her covers and they held still, just inches apart. The footsteps passed, but only moments later they heard low voices from the hallway that they couldn't understand. Footsteps returned to the door, and Sam stopped breathing.

When they finally moved away, he straightened from his crouch and peeked in the window. Her sparkling eyes were just visible above the edge of her comforter, which she had pulled up past her nose. The sheets were shaking as she tried to silence her quiet laughter. He leaned in just far enough to reach for the cover and pull it back, and he saw that she had her hands clamped over her mouth. He couldn't resist. He had to kiss some part of her, and if he didn't want to fall in with a crash and alert her parents, her hand was all he could reach. He steadied himself with a fist braced on the bed, and with his other he pulled one hand toward him. Then he kissed each one of her fingertips, reached for the other hand, and did the same.

By the time he was done, her laughter had faded into the loveliest smile.

Reluctantly, he said, "I think I'd better go before I get caught."

She nodded and sat up. "I'm so glad you came."

"I'm so glad..." he started.

"I've got you," they finished together.

She reached around his neck and brought him in for one final, perfect kiss.

And then he was sliding off her roof and jogging away. He could barely see her in the dark, but he knew she was leaning out her window waving at him. He waved back, looking over his shoulder, and he saw her blowing a kiss at him. She hissed his name and pointed, but he didn't know what she was gesturing at.

Then he crashed into a tree.

Her laughter rang out behind him, and it was such a happy sound that he thought maybe he'd do stupid things like that on purpose just to hear it again.

X-x-x-x-X

The next morning he walked her to school. He wanted to hold her hand, but he needed both of them to steer his bike since he was going to ride to Forks for soccer practice while she babysat Collin. To his delight, she simply wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked. He garnered envious stares from at least a dozen boys at school, Johnny and Bobby both gave him huge thumbs up signs when Leah had her back turned to them, and as soon as they were alone ragged him for insisting he didn't have a crush on her. Austin and Roy glared at him.

But their dirty looks were nothing compared to the Black twins'. Rebecca came right up to him and poked a finger into his chest and demanded an oath from him that he would never, ever hurt Leah again. Rachel moved to shield Leah from him and had a quiet conversation with her, frequently glancing over her shoulder to look at him appraisingly. They were a little too far away for him to hear what they were saying, but from Leah's expression, he thought she was probably defending him. Then she dropped her eyes to her own shoes and he could swear she was blushing, and a little smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. When that part of the conversation finished, Rachel smiled, tugged her twin away and whispered something in her ear, and Rebecca turned back to him. Very matter of factly, she said, "You treat her right, you got that, Uley?"

Forget Austin and Roy, Brian Lincoln, or even Harry and his rifle. The Black girls were scary. "I will, I promise," he solemnly reassured her. Then Leah joined their two lunch tables.

Bobby and Johnny pretended that this was a huge drag, but when the girls took a trip to the bathroom together, they thanked him for getting them "in" with the twins. Bobby declared that he'd take Rachel and Johnny could have Rebecca, so Sam smacked him upside the head and reminded him that he still couldn't even figure out which twin was which. Johnny and Bobby debated which one was wearing the purple shirt and which one red. They were wrong, and it provided entertainment for the remainder of the lunch hour.

After that, his relationships with Leah and his friends just got better and better. Freshman year was one fantastic blur. Sam saw LeeLee every day in school, at lunch, and went to her house either right after school or after dinner on evenings when he played soccer. On Saturday they usually ate breakfast together at either his house or hers, and she continued to join him at Grandma Uley's house for waffle brunch on Sunday. Harry started teaching him to drive when he turned fifteen in November, and he showed both of them how to change a flat tire. Weekend afternoons or evenings they'd split up for a bit so that he could see his friends and she could see hers, or for time with their families.

Of course, Allison didn't have that much time to spare. She had taken on a second job as as the daytime, weekend receptionist at the resort, since daycare didn't exactly pay well, and the first several years after Joshua left had been very difficult. He hadn't sent word of his destination, let alone a penny of child support. She managed to keep the roof over their head and food on the table, but there was absolutely no money left over, and she saw her only son's potential and dreamed of sending him to college. Every cent she earned at her second job went into his education fund.

Sam knew that she hoped for a bigger, better life for him than the one she had led. He didn't have a very specific vision of what he wanted for his life, but he wanted to make her and his grandmother proud. He had daydreams of running into Joshua someday and shoving his successes in his father's face. Because as he grew older, he saw more and more of his father in himself. It was unavoidable, because each time he looked in them mirror, a younger version of Joshua stared right back at him. His mother saw it too, although she knew better than to say anything of the sort. But Grandma Uley wasn't so restrained. She might have despised many things about her son, but she couldn't stop herself from pointing out the good traits he had inherited from Joshua: his good looks, his build, his athleticism, his intelligence, his charm. If only those things hadn't been overruled by his vices and addictions, by his cruelty and his weaknesses. Sam certainly couldn't think of his father without remembering that every positive trait had been overwhelmed by a negative one, and every time Grandma pointed out a similarity between them, he swore to himself that he wasn't going to be anything like his father.

Then he looked at his LeeLee and knew that as long as she was by his side, he had a very important reason to be the best version of himself that he could be. He wouldn't touch a drop of alcohol, he wouldn't try anything that could possibly be labeled a drug. He would work his hardest in school, get good grades, get into a good school.

After all, he had to get into whatever college she wanted to go to, and with or without his mother's second job, he'd need to earn a scholarship to be able to afford to go. Because she was going to college; there was no question. Sue and Harry's children weren't going to stop at high school diplomas or GEDs. No, they were going to college. The only question was where and to do what. Leah had once mentioned being a nurse like her mother, and Sue had actually scoffed. Why be a nurse when Leah could be a doctor? Leah mentioned she might follow in Harry's footsteps and become an accountant. Sue said she should aim for CFO. Leah laughed and said that she really wanted to be a secondary school teacher, and there was nothing wrong with that. Sue said she should be a college professor.

Sam didn't know what she would want to do, or where she'd want to do it. But he would be by her side. His LeeLee was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wanted to be worthy of her.

X-x-x-x-X

So he strove to be the best boyfriend, friend, and student possible. But he had stiff competition. Leah was already at the top of their class (although if he ever mentioned this to her, she would point out that it wasn't that hard to be at the top of a class of a twelve), and she had always been a better friend to him than he had been to her (but other than his remote period of "jackassiness", Becca's description, she told him he was just about perfect). However, there was no way she could be a better boyfriend than he could.

And it wasn't just because she was a girl. He knew her almost as well as he knew himself, and he put that knowledge to good use. After all, he had been paying close attention for their entire lives. He knew what she liked and what she hated, what made her happy and what made her sad, what made her laugh and what made her roll her eyes. He might not have had any money to buy her things or a car to take her places, but he knew how to treat her. He had learned the hard way. He had once done things wrong and had been lucky enough to be blessed with her forgiveness, and well before she agreed to be his girlfriend, he had sworn to himself that from then on he would only ever do right by her.

He hated to admit it, but Joshua had taught him one important lesson before he left. He knew that his actions spoke much louder than his words. So he strove to demonstrate how much she meant to him with every single gesture, great or small.

Grandma Uley was a great source of instruction on the finer points on how to "treat a lady". She told him to open doors for not only Leah, but also her friends. She instructed him where to find the prettiest wildflowers to give her, but that he should always tell her how much prettier she was than the flowers. She taught him to offer to carry her books for her, but not to be offended if she didn't let him. She made sure he understood that he should not only ask her about day, but really care about the answer. She helped him find the line between defending her honor when other boys disrespected her, but stepping behind her when she was defending herself.

One question gnawed at his brain until he finally blurted it out one day. Had Grandma Uley taught these lessons to her own son? If she had, how could he have done the things he had done? It would hurt Grandma too much to ask her directly. He finally spoke with the only person he could think to. He asked Harry, whose face fell. Leah's father sighed heavily and took off his reading glasses, setting them gently on the kitchen table between them. He peeked over his shoulder to see if he had any backup, but Sue was busy with the other kids in the living room.

"Son, your father learned the words without understanding their meaning."

And Sam knew that it was true.

After that, Harry made a point to set aside extra time for Sam. The boy already felt like his third child, and he had always taken him along for fishing, family picnics, and day trips. But he had always included him, not given him extra time. Now that changed. If he was able, he went to cheer for Sam at his soccer matches or basketball games, even when Leah wasn't free to come. He'd take Seth along to keep Sam from feeling too awkward, and then he'd buy them burgers at the diner in Forks. And he followed Grandma Uley's advice. Harry would ask him about his day and actually care about his answer.

One evening he overheard his mother thanking Harry for taking him under his wing. Harry just laughed and said, "Oh, it's all really selfish of me. Your boy holds my daughter's heart in his hands, and I've got to make sure he takes good care of it."

Sam knew this was partly true (and he felt his own heart pounding away in his chest at the thought of Leah's heart belonging to him), but he also knew that Harry held genuine affection for him. Because when he scored a goal or made a basket, Harry's cheers were just as loud as Leah's.

It was also Harry who gave him his first job. For twenty dollars a week, he mowed the Clearwaters' lawn, raked the leaves, cleared their gutters, and shoveled their driveway on the rare occasion that it snowed. That job led to doing the same for their next door neighbors on either side, and then he actually had some money to spend on Leah.

Mostly, though, she wouldn't let him. She wasn't against it, per se, but she had the same dreams he did, and she would rather he save his money so he could go to college with her. Plus, she had never needed baubles or trinkets to make her happy. She was clear that she just wanted his company.

He felt the same, only he didn't just want her company. He _wanted_ her_. _

It was the one area in which he was completely unable to follow his grandmother's (or, to his absolute mortification, Harry's) advice. They told him in no uncertain terms that he was supposed to keep his mind out of the gutter and his hands off of his girl. He vowed to them that he would, knowing full well that he would not be able to fulfill the promise.

He obsessed about her body and her beauty. All night and all day, waking or sleeping, involuntary dreams or elaborate and deliberate fantasies. He conjured images of her dressed in her prettiest outfits and then he mentally undressed her. He kept a picture of her in his bedside drawer from the previous summer; she was laughing and making a sandcastle on the beach with her brother, and she was dressed in the blue bikini that he loved. He folded it over to get rid of Seth, and was relieved when the bottle of lotion he kept in the same drawer leaked onto Seth's face, giving him a reason to cut the picture at the seam and get rid of that half entirely. Thank goodness Leah's side was unharmed (although surely he had memorized the image by now; looking at it was a mere formality).

He congratulated himself for resisting the urge to jump her. Then he wondered what on earth he'd do with her if he actually worked up the nerve. Then he fantasized about what he'd do, or what she'd do, or what they'd do to each other, until he had to lock himself in his room or the shower and relieve the ache.

Dammit, she was pretty.

And she was his girlfriend. _His_. He still couldn't believe it most of the time.

For the rest of their freshman year of high school, he managed to keep his hands off her breasts and bottom by holding on to less forbidden parts of her. Harry and Grandma still wouldn't approve, particularly since he was often kissing whatever skin he had access to.

Which wasn't actually that much.

She liked kissing him, he was certain of that. But he was also sure she didn't like it quite as much as he did (not because she wasn't enthusiastic; he just liked it to the point of absolute absurdity). Moreover, he could tell that she thought kissing him was enough in and of itself. He, on the other hand, was left with exponential levels of lust each time her lips parted against his. He wanted more, so much more, but he was terrified that pushing her boundaries would mean pushing her away entirely.

So he limited himself to her lips, her cheeks, the back of her hands, and eventually the angle of her jaw. The day after Christmas, while they were hiding from a boring holiday party in Harry's study, he finally dared to explore the tender skin of her neck. Sam got the best present of the season when he discovered the little shiver that ran down her body if he found the right spot just below her ear. He nearly lost his mind when he dared to extend his tongue to taste the salt there, eliciting a broken, humming sigh that was, hands down, the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to know what other sounds she might make, and under what circumstances.

Then he remembered the funny giggle, snort, squeal noise she had made when they were six, the one that sent him on his quest to kiss her dimple. He made his own snuffling noise against her skin from the memory, and she wanted to know what was so funny. He told her the whole story for the first time. She was delighted, so he decided to make a fool of himself by trying to replicate the sound. He failed, but the joyful and happy expression on her face as she laughed with him was so entrancing that he made himself stay a good several inches away from her so he could see it. It kept him from kissing her again, but it was definitely worth it.

He wanted to kiss more of her, but he was nervous about offending her with the onslaught of his hormones. His brain turned to mush from a glimpse of her skin, a casual touch of her hand, the scent of her shampoo, the quirk of her lips as she smiled. He was worried he would push her too far, too fast, in his haste to get as close to her as possible. So he held himself back and didn't ask for anything more than she offered.

It left him more than a little frustrated, physically at least. Other than that, he was more content than he could ever remember being. And if his house seemed a little too quiet, or if his mother seemed a bit lonely, he would smash down any thoughts of missing his absent father. He remembered the cost of Joshua's love all too well.

X-x-x-x-X

Leah's affections, on the other hand, were freely given. The only thing she demanded from him in return was his respect. Even if he had not returned her romantic feelings for him, he had no doubt that she would have continued to be his friend so long as he treated her with basic decency. And in retrospect, he could hardly believe that she hadn't figured out how he had always felt about her. He admitted to himself that he had been a bit of a coward; he was too afraid of rejection and of disrupting their friendship to pursue her until his uncontrollable jealousy pushed him over the edge. It was a side of himself that he wasn't proud of, just as he wasn't exactly proud of himself for retaliating against Brian with force when the older boy had knocked Leah into the lockers. He was certain he had inherited his jealousy and temper from Joshua, and he wished he could erase every trace of his father from himself. But he couldn't help but feel that fighting Brian had actually won him his LeeLee (although when he told her this, she laughed and said she had always been his anyway). Moreover, it cemented his reputation in the school as someone not to be trifled with.

It also kept other competition away, which suited Sam just fine. He knew that Leah was almost as appealing to other boys as she was to him, although he also contended that he knew her better than anyone else, so there was no way that anyone else's feelings for her could run as deep as his. Other boys knew she was nice, but no one else knew that she didn't just set aside batches of her cookies for him, but Grandma Uley as well. They knew she was funny and witty, but they didn't realize that she knew equally well when to crack a joke to cheer him up or when to offer her sympathies and let him sulk. They knew she was smart, but they didn't know that she was the only reason Becca passed Algebra. They knew she was pretty, but they hadn't touched her skin to know just how soft it was.

He felt guilty about it, but the truth was that he spent more time obsessing over her superficial beauty than the beauty of her soul. He couldn't help it. Harry said she was too pretty for her own good, and he was right. Sam found her completely distracting. When they did their homework together, he often found himself falling farther and farther behind just because he had spent too much time staring at her. Thank goodness Seth was usually there; otherwise he would probably climb over the table and kiss her breathless, rendering both of them unable to accomplish anything.

He didn't have the same kind of restraint around friends their own age, particularly after Johnny started dating Rachel. Bobby hoped that this would leave him paired with Becca, but she disagreed. She was perfectly happy to play his Xbox, however, and even happier to beat him at Call of Duty. The six of them started gathering in Bobby's basement on Saturday evenings. Becca and Bobby basically played video games the entire time, with some combination of the others coming and going. Sam and Leah never lasted long since he preferred to kiss her until her lips and cheeks were flushed. Video games were fun, but they had nothing on the way she tasted. It embarrassed her at first, but there was a little partitioned area of the basement that provided some privacy. And his friends knew better than to tease when Leah was in earshot (the twins felt differently, but she gave as good as she got).

Rachel and Rebecca gradually warmed to him. Leah didn't give them that much of a choice; she made it clear that she wasn't giving up her Sammy no matter what they said. And after he defended her from Brian, combined with his sincere attempts to win them over, they didn't have much argument against him any longer. Because he did follow Grandma Uley's advice. He opened doors for them as well as for Leah; he carried their books for them when they looked overloaded; he even pretended to be Becca's boyfriend when they were getting hit on by a couple persistent boys from Forks. When he finally admitted to them that he really appreciated how much he appreciated their protectiveness of Leah when he was hurting her, they finally admitted that they believed he truly cared for her.

Emily he wasn't so sure about. He didn't see her nearly as often, and she had never really been comfortable around him. He didn't think she was angry with him the way Becca and Rachel had been, since she hadn't been around during his period of neglect. He was certain she knew some of what had happened since Leah must have told her something, but he didn't know what. He did see her occasionally, because she continued visiting during holidays and the occasional weekend. She was nice enough, he supposed, and Leah absolutely adored her. So he liked her by proxy: anyone that Leah spoke so highly of couldn't be a bad person.

He hadn't seen it firsthand, but Leah told him that Emily was funny and sweet and kind. It was hard for him to tell, because her overriding quality seemed to be her shyness. Leah kept insisting that the more he and Emily got to know each other, the less he would feel that way. He nodded agreeably but didn't really believe her; he had known Emily for years, and if anything, her shyness got worse, not better.

At least he had managed to get over his childhood jealousy of the other girl. While he once felt like she took away from his time with his best friend, Sam now had enough other facets to his life not to feel like Leah was the only good part of it (although she was undoubtedly the best and most important). And better yet, he was confident of his place in Leah's life, and that she would not try to replace him with someone else.

If anything, Emily was the third wheel, not him.

Leah actually pointed this out to him one day in order to remedy the situation. They had continued their tendency to hold conversations that were meaningful to them but incomprehensible to anyone else. It had probably gotten worse. Around their parents it was a useful skill. Seth thought it was hilarious. The twins were just as bad as they were, and Bobby and Johnny hardly cared one way or the other. But around Emily, it made her feel left out. So Leah tried on her own to be less exclusionary. When he didn't cooperate with her, she sweetly asked him to try harder to include Emily in their conversations. He agreed, but when she asked him to stop kissing her in front of Emily, he did so very reluctantly.

Emily had apparently been dumped by Mark only a month into the school year, and Emily was suspicious that he had been sneaking around behind her back before the breakup due to his rapid turnaround with a new girlfriend. Apparently, watching Sam's romantic devotion to Leah both made her feel particularly left out, not to mention reminding her of what she didn't have. Leah thought her cousin was much better off without Mark and swore that Emily deserved someone genuinely loving and respectful, but Emily was still dejected. But Sam hardly noticed Emily's reaction. As Leah spoke of love, she was looking directly at him and he at her. He was too distracted by the soft look in Leah's eyes to notice that Emily was watching him too.

X-x-x-x-X

They talked about the past sometimes, but more and more, their conversations turned to the future. The day after the senior class graduated, they went on a jog together. She was restless, and it was too cool and drizzly to go to the beach, and the waves were too turbulent to surf. So they ran to the cliffs. They were well matched. He was taller, as he had always been, and becoming wiry with muscle from all the sports he played as well as manual labor. But she was tall as well, and she ran because she simply felt the need to. They took a long, circuitous route to the cliffs, down the dirt road, through winding forest paths, and then up to the bluffs. Mostly he ran by her side, but whenever the path narrowed, he fell slightly back to let her lead. Just like always. Although now this also had the added benefit of allowing him to watch her unabashedly. Her outfit wasn't deliberately revealing; she wore gray knit shorts and a simple black tee shirt. But the light rain soon soaked her clothes, making them cling to her.

As they approached the fork in the path that would lead them to the cliffs, she asked him whether he minded doing an extra lap, and he gladly obliged. He would tolerate any kind of weather to have this peace with her. She stayed on the path to do another loop. They didn't talk much as they ran. They didn't need to.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the cliffs. She glanced at him and without a word led him down along the edge. She was headed for the lower shelf where most of the teenagers jumped into the ocean, but they weren't going to do that in this weather. There was an outcropping in the wall that would be a perfect shelter from the rain, and he'd happily sit there with her for hours. If they went back to her house, Seth and his friends would be there, or if they went to his, Allison would be, and he wanted her to himself.

When the path widened enough that they could walk side by side, he fell into step beside her and reached for her hand. Soon they arrived at their chosen destination. She pulled him into a little nook carved into the rock wall, and they lowered themselves onto a flat, smooth rock. At first, he leaned back and slightly away from her so that he could look at her properly. She sat Indian style, watching water fall from the sky into the ocean. He watched her. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, exposing her slender neck. A droplet of rain rolled down her her hairline and along her glistening skin, pooling in her collarbone. He was entranced. He wanted to lick it away.

Instead he looked at the way her wet clothes outlined her curves, and he limited himself to drawing circles on her palm. He waited until she started shivering as her body cooled, and then he pulled her in against his chest.

"Oh, you don't want to do that," she shook her head. "I'm all sweaty and gross and stuff."

"Me too. But the rain gave us a shower," he answered. "C'mere."

It didn't take much convincing; she liked to be as close to him as he did to her. So he wrapped his arms along hers and squeezed around her middle, and he extended his legs on either side of hers. She was so soft. He warmed her body with his, and she warmed his heart with hers, and he wished he didn't ever have to let her go.

He missed this at night sometimes. All his life she had been his most consistent source of affection and physical comfort. His mother loved him dearly, he knew, but years of abuse at Joshua's hand had left her protective of her personal space. LeeLee, on the other hand, had always been open and generous with her smiles, her hugs, her soft hands, and now her kisses. They hadn't been allowed to share the same sleeping bag or bed in years, but sleeping without her still seemed unnatural.

So holding her like this wasn't just a treat, it restored his natural sense of balance.

"What do you want to do?" he asked softly. He needed to know so he could plan for it. So he could grow into the person she deserved.

And like always, she knew what he meant. She didn't stop to ask if he meant how long they would stay in their shelter or what she wanted to do tomorrow. She hummed a little and stroked her fingertips along his forearms, causing goosebumps to rise. "Go to Seattle or maybe Portland. Live in a city for a while."

"For college? You want to stay kind of close to home?"

"I don't know. I mean, I want to see the world, you know? I'd love to go to Paris, Italy, Greece, maybe even Hong Kong or Tokyo, see the pyramids in Egypt or go on safari in Kenya. But my folks are here, your mom and your Gran are here. How far would you want to go?" He was heartened at her inclusion of his family alongside hers. Did it mean what he hoped? "And what about this?" She swept her arm out toward the Pacific Ocean. "How long do you think you could go without seeing this?"

Noncommittally he hummed, "Mmm. It is beautiful," but he was looking at her, not the scenery. "But LeeLee, if you want to see the world, you should see the world."

Softly, she said, "But you're here, Sammy. What fun would it be seeing the world by myself?"

He kissed her neck just below her ear, the spot that always made her shiver. "Don't you know that I'll follow you anywhere?"

X-x-x-x-X

After that Sam worked even harder. He had already tried to make money in order to save for college, but now he envisioned even bigger and better things. He wondered what it would be like to go to college in New York instead of Seattle, or how he could manage to take her to Europe or Asia or Africa someday. Then he'd realize that he had never been farther east than Seattle, and he thought that maybe he should start by exploring the country with her. They wouldn't need much; a car to get from place to place, a few clothes, a toothbrush, and a little cash. They might not even need to spring for motels; they could zip a couple sleeping bags together and take Harry's tent, even sleep under the stars when the weather permitted.

A week later they were in her kitchen making a pizza to share with Seth and Collin, who were in the living room watching a movie. Sam had just finished mowing the lawns of two of his neighbors, and he was wondering how much he'd have saved up by the end of the summer. "You know how you told me you want to see the world someday?" he asked.

"Yeah. You've been thinking about that?"

"Mm." He nodded. "I was thinking maybe we'd start by seeing the country."

"Yeah?" She perked up. "You mean, like a road trip?"

He grinned at her. "That's exactly what I mean."

"You really want to?"

"Don't you? We should see the desert. And the Grand Canyon. Yellowstone and Yosemite and all that stuff. Maybe go to San Francisco on the way to Yosemite."

Her eyes shone as she thought about the possibilities. He knew that she wanted to see cities too, but it was the natural beauty of their home that meant the most to her. "That's a great idea!"

Subsequently one of their favorite activities became mapping out where they'd go and how they'd get there. Leah started researching all the quirky and odd things they could find, like the world's biggest bottle of ketchup in Collinsville, Illinois, which they had to see on their way to Chicago, or the Bigfoot Discovery Museum in Felton, where they'd stop in between San Francisco and Monterey. They came up with so many places to go that it would take them years, but that was fine, because as far as Sam was concerned, they had their whole lives to explore. After all, Leah had spent their entire childhood leading him by the hand and showing him the marvels all around them. Why should adulthood be any different?

He tried to figure out how soon they could take their first trip, but he came up empty. By next summer he'd have his driver's license, but even if he had saved enough money to buy a used car, which he doubted, he couldn't imagine that her parents would let her go away with him. He could probably get a car the year after that, but once again, Harry would sooner shoot him than let LeeLee go away with him.

After they graduated, though, he might have better luck. Leah agreed. If they couldn't convince Harry to let them take a vacation together, maybe they would take the scenic route to drive to wherever they'd go for college. Sam laughingly agreed that that meant they should go to school somewhere far away, because the scenic route to Seattle was still a pretty short trip.

It was after that conversation that Sam decided to ask his LeeLee to marry him. An idle thought passed through his brain that he didn't voice aloud, namely, Harry would protest less if he wanted to go take his fiancee on a trip instead of his girlfriend, right? It was far too soon to ask, of course. Leah had only just turned fifteen. Not to mention, he should probably have some kind of a plan for taking care of her that didn't involve living with their parents or mowing lawns for twenty dollars a pop. After all, she had always done an excellent job of taking care of him. He wanted nothing more than to do the same for her. Preferably forever.

But he had time to work out those details. For now he could work on achieving a couple specific goals. First, make enough money to buy a reliable used car to drive her across the country, and hopefully have enough left over to buy an engagement ring. Second, convince her that they hadn't just belonged to each other since they were small, but that they should belong to each other for the rest of their lives.

X-x-x-x-X


	13. The L Word

The very next day he made sure to arrive early for breakfast at the Clearwaters' in order to ask Harry to tell him everything he knew about college scholarships and whether he knew of any other jobs that Sam might be able to get for the summer. Harry sent him to the tribal offices to talk to Billy Black about scholarships, which were apparently abundant if one knew where to look. Two days later, he joined Harry's brother-in-law Martin Fuller in his roofing business. Marty was pleasant enough to work with, and he was willing to pay Sam under the table. He also felt like he was mowing the lawns of half the residents of La Push, but he knew it wasn't the case. Between the two jobs, he worked twenty to thirty hours a week.

At that rate, Sam thought he might actually have enough money to buy a car by the end of the summer. A piece of junk, anyway, that he didn't know how to to drive. Maybe he should get his learner's permit; Harry had offered to teach them both. The downside was that the jobs cut significantly into his LeeLee time. On the other hand, she was busy babysitting Collin most days anyway, and he really wasn't inclined to share her.

On weekends, though, he didn't have to compete with Collin. One Saturday he and Leah gathered at his house with their friends and ordered pizza. He didn't have a video game console or basement designed for hangouts, but Bobby's younger sister was using their basement for a sleepover. Sam was surprised when his mother overheard him talking to Leah about where they would go instead, and she volunteered their house. It wasn't until later, when he and Leah were alone, that she mused that Allison might welcome the company and suggested that his mother might be lonely. They talked about spending time at his house more often. He'd rather have her to himself instead of share her with his mother, but their parents were already watching them closely, and it really wouldn't hurt to demonstrate that they had some self control. Plus Allison really liked Leah, and it was nice to stay on her good side.

That night, however, she gave them space by retreating to her bedroom. Johnny had brought the original Star Wars trilogy with him. Rachel protested loudly when he pulled out the DVDs. They started to bicker, Bobby and Johnny listing the merits of the films, while Rachel complained that she had seen the films three times each since she has started dating Johnny. Rebecca rolled her eyes and said that they were old and dumb, and who cared about those stupid movies anyway? Her already short temper had gotten even worse since their mother had died. Leah had privately told Sam that she thought that part of the reason they were interesting in spending so much time with the boys was that they couldn't stand going back to their house when Sarah wasn't in it.

Johnny was mortally offended, but he knew better than to argue with his girlfriend's twin sister and kept his mouth shut. Bobby did not. It nearly turned into a shouting match, and soon the four of them were arguing heatedly. Leah and Sam sat back and watched; Rebecca was turning pink from frustration. She questioned the boys' maturity level (a valid point), their general geekiness (this went uncontested), but then dragged in their physical stature or lack thereof (an honest but low blow). Bobby retaliated by calling into question her level of taste (a dubious point), her snobbery (a more accurate accusation), and said that it was a good thing she was "so hot" since her personality sucked.

For some reason she took that as a compliment, and suddenly the argument was over. Leah got them all agree to watch Kill Bill as a compromise. It appealed to the boys' desire for violence, and the girls liked watching Uma Thurman destroy all her opponents. They made it through the first film, but during the pause to switch discs for the second, the girls started chatting, and the second one never got turned on.

Sam didn't even realize a conversation had begun. Leah had slipped out from under his arm as the credits rolled and stepped over to the DVD player. He immediately missed her warmth pressed against his side, but the roundness of her bottom when she bent down made him forget everything else immediately. After she straightened, she tilted her head to the side in response to something Becca had asked and ran her hand through her hair while she thought about her answer. The action tightened her shirt across her chest. She licked her lips in between sentences, and Sam couldn't help but notice how wet they became. Eventually she walked to the kitchen to get a bag of chips to share, and her hips swayed. She leaned over the coffee table to pour the snacks into a big bowl, giving him a nice view down her shirt. When he finally met her eyes again, he realized she was giggling.

Bobby smacked him upside the head, and he finally figured out what was going on. "Becca, you still think I'm the immature one here? This horndog has missed the last ten minutes of conversation just checking out Leah. Have you noticed this, guys? Dude, you turn into a drooling moron around your girl."

Sam blinked slowly at his friends.

Rachel snickered, "Yeah, you have any idea what we're talking about?"

Sam deliberately looked at the ceiling. "Um..." Everyone laughed at him. "No, wait..." And after several long seconds, he recited verbatim the last several things Leah had said, word for word. He couldn't recall a single thing anyone else had said.

"Oh man," Becca cackled. "I thought you were a smart guy, but around Leah you turn into an idiot. But you're an idiot savant, at least!"

Leah's reaction was the loveliest peal of laughter. He adored the sound, and after that, he didn't bother ending the habit since she thought it was funny. And he always heard her, even if he was a little slow on the uptake. Plus he didn't think he could stop staring at her if he tried.

X-x-x-x-X

He wasn't the only one who stared at Leah. He thought Collin was even worse than he was. He wasn't convinced the boy needed a babysitter at all; he was nine years old already. Mrs. Littlesea disagreed, although Sam thought that this was probably because Collin played up his helplessness. He certainly did around Leah.

At first Sam thought Collin's crush was kind of cute. Leah thought it was adorable and harmless. Then Collin got to second base before he did, and he wanted to strangle the kid. Sam usually hung out with Leah and Collin during the day if he wasn't working. Collin hated Sam's intrusion, but Mrs. Littlesea dropped him off at the Clearwaters' on her way to work, and she didn't really feel like she had the right to ask them to keep other people out of their house while her son was there. It didn't hurt that Sam's hard work had buoyed his reputation, either, or that he weeded her flowerbeds for free after he mowed her lawn and did her edging. Probably she would like him less if he murdered her son, though, even if it was justifiable homicide.

It didn't escape Sam's notice that Collin took any excuse he could find to touch Leah. He often tapped her on her shoulder or touched her arm when he easily could have said her name to get her attention, or if they were watching television on the couch, he'd rest his head on her shoulder. When Sam protested about this to Leah, she called him silly and pointed out that Seth normally rested his head in her lap if he was on the couch with her. Sam retorted that Seth was her brother, while Leah laughed and reminded him that Collin was only nine. He was about to argue further, but she distracted him with a kiss, and every other thought flew out his brain.

But he was acutely reminded of his jealousy when Collin faked an injury to get close to her. Leah didn't think he was faking at all, but Sam saw the entire thing and insisted that the boy was playing her. They had been seated on the couch on either side of Leah, vying for her attention. Sam had managed a kiss on her cheek, making her giggle and drawing out her dimple. Collin gave Sam the stink eye and broke them apart by asking for a snack, and once she was gone, petulantly told Sam that his mother wasn't paying for Leah to make out with him. Sam held his tongue rather than pointing out that Leah wanted him to kiss her, and who was he to refuse? Collin got up to follow Leah but immediately tripped on the coffee table, hitting the floor with a crash. Leah rushed in and found him sprawled on the carpet holding his ankle. He swore it was twisted and painful. Sam said it was nothing and that he should walk it off. Collin burst into crocodile tears and said Sam was only saying that because he tripped him. Leah cooed at Collin, reassuring him that Sam wouldn't have done that on purpose, then knelt down to examine his ankle. He winced and cried out at every spot she touched, which confirmed for Sam that he was faking. There was no way that that little injury resulted in such diffuse pain. But when Leah tried to get an ace wrap and an ice pack from Sue's first aid kit, Collin wouldn't let her leave, insisting that Sam get it instead. He rolled his eyes but complied when she asked him to, but when he returned, Collin was clinging to Leah and had his face buried in her bosom.

Leah was wearing a simple cotton tee shirt, but it had a v neckline and showed off her developing chest quite nicely. It was actually one of Sam's favorites, and apparently one of Collin's as well. Leah and Collin looked up at him simultaneously, Leah asking for the supplies. Collin smirked at Sam and deliberately nuzzled his cheek against Leah's exposed flesh.

"Hey! You had better..." Sam stepped forward, leaning over to yank Collin off Leah. Lucky for him, he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing and reached out with the hand holding the ace wrap.

Leah grabbed it with a quick thanks, while Collin tried to convince her that Sam was reaching down to hit him. She actually laughed at that, explaining that Sam was just starting to instruct her to ice and elevate the leg quickly. Collin didn't believe it for a second, but there was nothing he could do. So he just grabbed her for another hug, plainly diving into her cleavage once more.

Sam kept his mouth shut until Connie came to pick up her son. Then he immediately began to complain about the boy's inappropriate touching.

"You're being silly," she giggled.

"He's a player!"

She actually laughed. "He's just a little kid! How could he be a player?"

"He faked that whole thing so he could touch you!"

She thought he was angry that Collin had accused him of trying to trip him. "Oh, I know you didn't do anything to him. Of course you'd never do that."

"And I'd never pull a stunt like that, either," Sam insisted.

"Well," she admitted, "he probably was playing it up for attention."

"Attention?" Sam sputtered. "He was rubbing his face all over your boobs! If he could figure out a reason to do it, he'd have put his hand up your shirt! I've never even done that!"

And then it clicked in Leah's brain. "Ohh... Are you... Do you..." Suddenly she looked shy, and he thought she might be a little pink under her summer tan. She licked her lips and looked away, an unintentionally seductive movement that never failed to disarm him. But he simultaneously wanted to sink into the ground. Was she mad at him for his petty jealousy and lust?

"I'm sorry, LeeLee," he started.

She interrupted him. "No, no. It's okay." She started fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Is that... Is that something you want?"

He froze with his mouth open. That had to be a trick question. What was the right answer? No, right? It had to be no. But that was a lie. The truth was an emphatic, yes please! But would she get offended? Would he push her too far, too fast? Was it worse to lie to her or tell her the truth?

Then she peeked up at him through her long lashes and very, very quietly said, "You can, you know. Touch me. If you want to."

Time stopped while he tried to process what she had just said. Had she heard her correctly? Was it possible? It couldn't be. She must have said "can't", not "can". There was no way she'd let him. Would she?

She started to back away and apologize. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. If you wanted to do that you'd have done something or said something a while ago." He was floored. Did she think he didn't want her that way? How ridiculous! "It was really stupid..."

Crap. How long had he been staring at her with his mouth hanging open like a fish? "I want to," he blurted. "I really, really want to."

"Yeah?" She looked him in the eye again.

"I've wanted to for years," he admitted.

She actually laughed again, and he was relieved that he'd made her smile, even if he didn't know why. "Years? There hasn't been anything worth touching for years."

How was it possible that she didn't realize the effect she had on him? On the male populace in general? Was he really that good at hiding it? "Trust me, that's not true. For years, LeeLee."

"Oh." Her eyes widened, and he realized that for once, they were both at a loss as to what to say or do. Would it be totally inappropriate to leap across the room and grab her boobs? Yes, yes it would. Even if he had permission.

She finally moved, sitting next to him and relieving him of the need to make the next move. That was better. He decided to do what he already knew how to do. He turned to her and put one arm around her waist and cupped her cheek in his other hand, drawing her closer. He eyed her pretty, pink lips and bent in, lightly brushing his lips against hers. God. That feeling... He couldn't get enough of it. He did it again, and again, and then he slid his hand from her jaw to the base of her neck, tangling it into her hair and holding her close, and she sighed. He slid out his tongue to taste her mouth, and then her arms were around him too, and they clung to each other as he lost himself in her sweetness.

When she finally broke for air, he loosened his grip on her waist and let his other hand fall from her neck to her shoulder. He hesitated there and lowered his head, gently peppering kisses onto her neck. She arched her back when he ran his tongue over the sensitive spot under her ear and made the impossibly sexy humming noise that drove him crazy, and he took her cue and slid his hand down her cotton shirt.

She was holding her breath, he could hear it. So was he. Until he shifted the last few inches and cupped her breast in his hand, and they released matching groans.

Oh god. She was so soft, and she filled his hand, and she smelled so good, and he was harder than he thought he'd ever been... and... and... He squeezed gently, and she gasped. Damn. Could she possibly get any sexier? He had been dreaming about making her make those noises ever since she came home from Emily's house two summers prior with... with... these, and every time he heard her make a new sound, he wanted her to make more, and god. So, so soft, but firm at the same time. He rubbed his open palm against her again, and again, and... and... Oh. Her breast wasn't entirely soft anymore. Right in the center he felt something hardening. Wow. It had to be her nipple, reacting to his touch. He wanted to pull off all her clothes and see exactly what this amazing, wonderful, perfect part of her body looked like. He had occasionally gotten a hint of their outline when he climbed to her room at night; she didn't wear a bra under her pajamas, and he could see every little movement under her shirt. It drove him insane in the best way possible. He wanted to tear off her shirt and lick the stiff nub he felt in his hand. Suckle it. See what other noises she would make if he put his hands and tongue on her skin.

And he might have, if he hadn't heard a car door slam just outside. He sprung away from Leah, twisting to look out the window. He spotted Sue just as his movement constricted his painful erection against the fly of his jeans. He yanked a pillow into his lap just as Seth burst into the room, but it was too late. He turned to Leah, who was staring at the pillow with huge eyes.

Sue asked him to stay for dinner, and for once, he felt lucky that his mother wanted him to come home to eat with her. When he climbed onto his father's old mountain bike, he purposefully sat down on the banana seat too hard. He had to get rid of his erection somehow. He was totally distracted through dinner, although it didn't hurt his appetite one bit. He was nervous for his nightly climb up to Leah's window. Up until now, they had both been cautious.

Harry or Sue still peeked in on her occasionally, and Sam didn't want to get caught. More importantly, he continued use the barrier of the wall beneath the window to keep from accidentally brushing his erection against her. It gave him the courage to grasp her tightly around her waist and kiss her feverishly until they were both breathless and panting. The only nights he was more reserved were those during which the rain or snow prompted him to enter the room and slide her window shut against the wet or the cold. Considering the climate, those nights were actually quite often. Then he made certain to sit on the edge of her bed and whisper softly to her, hold her hand, and kiss her sweetly, never lowering her back to the mattress and climbing over her like he really wanted to.

And he really, really wanted to. While one part of his brain was focused on making her smile and basking in her happiness, the other was overcome with pure lust. The latter was becoming more and more pervasive. Every night he'd rush home when it got too persistent, when the taste of her lips, the puff of her breath in his ear, or the softness and heat of her skin became too arousing to bear. He'd adjust his uncomfortable erection in his pants as soon as he was out of sight in the trees and run home as fast as possible. Then he'd grab his lotion and the picture of Leah in her bikini, or he'd close his eyes and think about the little sounds she made when he kissed her neck, or he'd remember the sensation of her braless breasts in her cotton pajamas as they pressed against his chest.

It never lasted long. He was too worked up to savor it, needing release quickly and furiously. Sometimes he was so aroused that once wasn't even enough. It made him paranoid about what he'd manage to accomplish if he ever had a chance to do the things he dreamed about. He'd surely explode all over her before they even began. That fear, as much as anything, kept him from pushing their boundaries any further. Moreover, he had firmly believed that she was neither interested in nor ready for anything other than their heated kisses. But now that barrier was dissolving, and he didn't know what to do.

Over and over again, he replayed the moment when she gave him permission to touch her, and then he adjusted the memory slightly so that she was asking for it. He could hardly believe she might actually be interested; it was too good to be true. She was so self assured and confident, yet she still seemed so innocent. He recalled how she seemed to think he didn't want her in that way. She was rarely wrong, but this time she was deeply mistaken. How was it possible? She wasn't just his best friend, not just his girlfriend. She was the root of all his deepest fantasies, the object of his most base desires.

He felt so guilty for wanting her so badly. She deserved better than his hormone-driven impulses, and every morning that he saw her innocent smile and the little dimples that he loved, he felt shame for the way he defiled her in his mind the night before. But that never stopped him, because he felt powerless in the face of his feelings for her.

That, at least, he was clear on. His feelings for her were much more than blind teenage lust. He knew plenty of boys, not to mention men, who desired her too. He could see it in the way their eyes followed her as she jogged past, or how the boys at school tried to look down her top when they passed her desk, or the blatant stares she got while sporting one of her two new bikinis at the beach (she had outgrown both the top and bottom halves of her blue halter suit, while the narrowness of her waist remained exactly the same, and her legs got even longer, facts which combined to addle his brain the first time they went swimming that summer). He fully admitted to himself that he was worse than anyone else in the frequency and intensity of his attentions toward her, but he justified this behavior by telling himself it was only due to their constant proximity combined with the intimacy of their relationship.

Because the truth was that even though he wanted her like he'd never wanted anyone or anything, his feelings for her ran deeper and farther than he thought possible. He had no clue how to put it into words, let alone tell her. He just felt so much about her. Other than the embarrassment that his libido created, plus his old guilt for treating her callously when they were young, every single other feeling he had for her or about her was pure and good. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was the kind of beautiful that shone from the inside out, not to mention the superficial sort that made his blood run hot. She was the kindest and most generous person he knew, but it never made her give away so much that she lost herself. She was sweet, but she still had a sharp wit and could always make him laugh. She was smart, but her warmth and humor outshine her natural intelligence and kept her from being intimidating or snobby. She was athletic and competitive, but her irresistible femininity kept her from ever seeming hard or masculine. She was a collection of wonderful contradictions wrapped up in a stunning package.

She just made him so happy, and he wanted to make her feel as good as she made him.

It made him even more nervous about returning to her window that night. He wanted her to enjoy it, and he had no idea how to make sure that he did everything right. He had watched a little bit of porn, but he was pretty sure that was all fake. Maybe he was watching the wrong things; he hadn't actually seen very much since his mother kept their old desktop in the living room where there was no privacy, and he spent most of his free time with Leah anyway. She was far more beautiful than the plastic looking girls with caked-on makeup, empty smiles, and vacant expressions. And if he treated her like the men in those videos treated the women, the best possible result would be that she laughed at him, and the worse, that he hurt her.

And he'd kill himself before he hurt her.

Of course, the only time he had done that before, it had been by driving her away and abandoning her. So even though a part of him was scared to see her that night, there was no way he'd stay away. Or that was his justification for sneaking out, anyway, because his overwhelming horniness didn't seem like a very good reason.

The air was misty, but no rain fell. Heavy cloud cover blocked the moon from lighting his path, but he suspected he could find his way to her deaf and blind. The window was open when he arrived, and he silently ascended the trellis and climbed in.

She was seated with her legs bent and her arms wrapped around her knees, staring at him with the big, lovely eyes that entranced him. She wore a simple purple cotton tank top and matching plaid shorts. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. Her fingernails were pink and her toenails were blue. She looked just like she always did, and somehow she managed to be more tempting than she had ever been.

Sam knelt on the bed, his knees pressing against her toes, and he tried to think of something to say. All he could think of was that she wasn't wearing a bra, but he couldn't say that out loud. Should he ask her how she had been since he saw her last? No, it had only been a couple hours. Should he tell her how beautiful she was? He felt silly doing that, not because it wasn't true, but because it seemed inadequate. Should he ask if he could kiss her? But he never really did that. They usually just came together like magnets. Should he ask if he could touch her again? He wanted to, but it seemed too forward.

Leah didn't wait for him to figure out what he was doing. She unfolded herself and knelt up toward him. Oh good. Now she was close enough to kiss. That he knew how to do. He reached out to tangle his hand in her hair, cupping the back of her skull, leaned down, and gently pressed his lips to hers. His brain turned off and his instincts took over. He kissed her over and over and over. He gripped her firmly, wanting only to be closer. He gently nipped at her lips with his teeth before soothing them with his tongue, trailed butterfly kisses along her jaw, and nuzzled her nose with his.

He didn't know how long he kissed her, but slowly and inevitably, his hand moved down from her shoulder, along her scapula, and down her flank, finally resting against her waist. She wound her arms around him as well, and the action tugged her top up, exposing the slightest hint of skin. Instead of carefully lifting his hand away as he usually did, he let his fingers trail against her sensitive flesh.

She hummed softly and arched her back, and he sank his fingers in deeper. He loved how she moved against him. There was nothing affected or false about any of her actions toward him, not as part of her friendship nor in the way her body responded to his. As he kissed her, he slid his hand up and down her spine, discovering that a light touch there made her squirm against him. He loved it, and he wondered dimly how sensitive the rest of her body was. But the thought was overwhelmed by the sensations rocketing through his groin, because every time she shifted against him, she rubbed against his erection. For the first time, he wasn't trying to protect her from it.

Eventually she dropped her head down, breathing heavily against his neck. She whispered, "Sammy," in a needy little voice that he had never heard before. It made him even harder than he already was, and he realized with shock that she felt him against her and wasn't pulling away.

Brokenly he whispered, "LeeLee," into her hair.

She kissed his neck, took a shaky breath and said quietly, "Please."

Sam thought he must be dreaming. It couldn't be possible. Was she actually begging him to touch her? It couldn't be. It was too good to be true, not to mention the most erotic thing he had ever heard. Luckily, his hands weren't waiting for his brain to catch up. If they had, she might have pulled away in embarrassment. Instead, he found himself slipping his hand down her back, lightly brushing around her waist, and resting against her abdomen. He stilled, his heart slamming against his chest in an uneven rhythm, until he felt her nod.

He drew her up for a passionate kiss. And when it ended, he rested his forehead against hers and cupped her in his palm. They both stopped breathing.

Her bare breast was the softest, warmest, most amazing thing he had ever touched. Without thinking, he squeezed gently, and a puff of her breath touched his lips. She didn't seem to be in pain, so he sank his fingers in farther, making her gasp. "Oh god, I'm sorry!" He immediately let go and hastily removed his hand from her shirt, trying to scoot back.

"No, no. You didn't hurt me," she whispered. Then she did the best possible thing. She grabbed his hand and brought it back up her shirt and held his hand to her chest. "It's just sensitive. In a good way. Please don't stop."

He gaped at her and tentatively began to caress her skin and knead her firm flesh. As much as he loved kissing her, there was no way he was leaning back in again, because this way he could see her. Her breath came in shallow little pants, and her pink tongue kept darting out to lick her full lips. Her eyes were locked on his, and her expression was a combination of surprise and what he hoped was arousal. Her midriff was bare to his eyes and her slim thighs were trembling slightly. She was beautiful.

But he wanted very badly to see more. He ran his fingers lightly over her nipple, and he groaned softly when he felt it pebbling under his touch. He stared at the other one, the one he was neglecting, and the outline was prominent against her thin shirt. "Can I..."

She knew exactly what he wanted, because she always did. She nodded wordlessly, and together they removed her shirt. Then he had to let go of her so he could look at her. His mouth went dry. He wanted to tell her something eloquent about being the most exquisitely gorgeous creature he had ever seen, about how she was absolutely perfect, but even those words weren't enough, and his brain had frozen. All he could do was mumble her name.

When the moment had gone on too long and she started to look nervous, he reached out with both hands and gently touched both breasts. She arched under his fingers, so he ran them down until his palms cupped their weight, leaving his thumbs in the perfect position to brush over her nipples. She actually dropped her head back and gasped, and he felt his erection throbbing between his legs. He took the hint and pinched her nipples gently, and she actually moaned.

He felt like a god, and his lust took over. He leaned over her, and she moved back in response. Soon he was lying over her with his hands on her body. He kissed her lips but was only able to revel in her sweetness for a few seconds. His need to taste her newly exposed skin was too great. He kissed his way down her neck, along her clavicle, and paused just underneath it.

"Yes." She gave him permission and buried her hands in his hair, clutching him to her. He couldn't resist any longer. He felt impossible softness against his lips as he moved down, and then he kissed the very tip of her breast. She pressed against him even more firmly, and he opened his mouth to her. At the touch of his tongue, she moaned loudly, and he thought he would come from the sound alone.

But then a door opened in the hallway, and a squeak sounded from the floorboards outside. Leah froze, but Sam panicked. He grabbed her shirt and thrust it into her hands. "They're gonna kill me!" he mouthed silently.

She nodded hastily as she sat up and yanked her shirt over her head. By the time she straightened it out, Sam was practically falling off the roof.

He didn't even make it back to his room. His arousal was too great, the ache incessant and demanding. As soon as he was certain he was out of sight of any houses, he leaned against a tree and gave in to his body's needs.

X-x-x-x-X

After his intense encounter with Leah, Sam wasn't able to think straight, let alone have coherent conversations. He had thought that getting to the next level with her would have alleviated some of his frustrations. Instead he couldn't focus on anything other than the next time he could be alone with her and what they might do. Would he get to touch her again? Would she grant him access to any other forbidden parts of her? And most importantly of all, would she want to touch him?

He had no idea, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. But he was despondent when he realized he wouldn't find out anytime soon. Sue had, in fact, knocked and entered Leah's room only seconds after he fled, and she had given what Leah described as a deeply embarrassing lecture about the dangers of teen pregnancy, sexually transmitted illnesses (complete with horrifying pictures that she pulled up on her laptop), broken bones and gunshot wounds (the latter of which would be inflicted by Harry upon Sam), and the differences between love and lust. Leah had apparently protested adamantly against the thought that Sam was only dating her because of his hormones, and Sam was heartened to know that Sue even agreed. But she also said that both Leah and Sam were level-headed and intelligent kids, and the fact that he was sneaking into her room against the rules and getting "noisily" carried away while Harry, Sue, and Seth were only feet away was a clear indication of a lapse in their judgement. She even asked if Sam had brought condoms with him or if Leah had any with her, and how far would they have gone if she hadn't interrupted them? When Leah had no answer, she said that that meant they weren't ready to have sex yet. Three days later, she took Leah to get the birth control shot, explaining that in no way was she giving her fifteen-year-old daughter permission to have sex.

Leah wasn't grounded, although Sam was for a week after Sue called Allison to tell her what was going on. But Leah's punishment was infinitely worse. Instead of telling her that she couldn't see her boyfriend or taking away her television privileges or not letting her talk on the phone with her friends, Sue made Leah watch a natural birthing video produced in 1983 every night before she went to bed. Leah got nightmares after every viewing. Sue explained that Sam was welcome to come over whenever he pleased, night or day, provided he had his mother's permission, but that he had to use not only the front door but the doorbell as well. Worst of all, anytime they were caught sneaking around, they would have to watch the video together.

Allison and Harry both declared that Sue was a genius, and Sam didn't get another chance to touch her the way he wanted to for weeks, although what really killed him was not being able to see or talk to her while he was grounded. He hadn't gone that long since she had gone to Emily's for three months in junior high, and he hated it. The week dragged by slowly. He kept busy during the day between his two jobs, but the late afternoons and evenings were boring at best. Even when he headed to Bobby's house, he couldn't help but think he'd rather be at Leah's, or at least have her there by his side. It didn't help that Johnny was off with Rachel somewhere most of the time, leaving Bobby to harass him about being pathetic.

The day his sentence was lifted he ran straight to her house first thing in the morning instead of getting his usual early start on landscaping before the heat of the day set in. He knocked and flung the door open simultaneously, immediately making a beeline for her where she stood in front of the stove making pancakes. He barely registered Seth and Collin at the kitchen table munching on fruit salad, but Harry and Sue were already gone for the day. So he spun her toward him, grabbed her by the waist, and kissed her deeply. He made it especially wet for Collin's benefit.

Dimly he heard Seth protesting, "Gross! We're trying to eat here!"

That wouldn't have stopped him, not after being deprived of her for so long, but she started giggling, which made it kind of difficult to keep kissing her lips. So he buried his head in her neck and kissed her there instead. "That tickles!" She giggled even harder and squirmed before finally shoving him away. He took a seat next to Collin, who was glowering at him. He couldn't stop himself from smirking at the boy.

Leah turned back to the stove, grabbing a bag out of the pantry as she did so. A few minutes later she set chocolate chip pancakes in front of each of them. She even dusted each stack with powdered sugar and topped them off with whipped cream. Seth crowed about the treat, wondering what the special occasion was. She said it was nothing, but Sam knew from the little dimple in her cheek and the way she was looking at him that it was for him.

He left that morning on a bit of a high. He told himself it was a sugar high, but it was really a LeeLee high.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: As always, thanks to my amazing beta, Babs81410.


	14. Sentence Structure

At the beginning of August, Grandma Uley suffered a stroke. She was in the hospital for nearly a week. Sam and Allison went to visit her every evening after Allison finished work. Each night when they finally arrived home, they found that Leah or Sue had left food in their refrigerator for dinner. Leah baked a batch of her double chocolate chunk cookies and delivered them to Grandma personally on the day she was declared safe to eat solid food, and Grandma was so happy that she kissed Leah on the cheek.

When she was discharged, it was clear that she couldn't go home. She had regained the ability to move her left arm and leg, but she was still extremely weak. She couldn't walk, not even with a walker, and wasn't yet strong enough to transfer herself into a wheelchair. So she was moved to the subacute rehabilitation facility in Forks. She made slow but steady progress there, but after three weeks, Medicare would no longer cover the entire cost and she would start getting billed for a significant portion. It would eat through her meager savings in no time at all, so she returned home before she was able to live independently, and she continued her physical therapy at home.

Allison and Sam moved in with her two days before school started. Allison had offered to bring her to their house to take care of her, but Sam would have been displaced into the living room to sleep since they only had two bedrooms. Grandma's house wasn't any bigger, but in addition to Joshua's old room, where Allison could sleep, Sam could have a private space in the basement.

The Clearwaters all pitched in to help. Allison couldn't afford to stop working to take care of Grandma Uley, but luckily Sue was able to arrange for an aide to come four hours a day without out of pocket costs. The aide came every morning during the week, and Grandma could handle being on her own for a couple hours in the early afternoon until Sam came home. It meant he missed soccer, which made her feel terribly guilty. But there was no question in his mind that helping her was the only thing to do. Better yet, Mrs. Littlesea had finally realized that Collin no longer needed a babysitter. Collin retorted that he needed tutoring, so Leah worked with him twice a week. But the rest of the time, she went to Grandma's house with him. Seth often tagged along, entertaining Grandma with his endless chatter. A couple times a week Leah and Sam cooked dinner before Allison got home to spare her the trouble, and Sue frequently made extra food and sent it with them. Grandma threatened to kidnap Leah and Seth and keep them as her own.

Sam always walked Leah home from Grandma's house, but he no longer returned later in the night to sneak in her window. Between Sue's disciplinary methods and Grandma's shockingly acute hearing, he was certain to be caught. He made do with stolen kisses on the back porch or in the forest paths between Grandma's house and hers. And Grandma occasionally got tired and took a nap in the afternoon, leaving Sam to tug Leah into his basement "room", pull off her shirt, and lower her to the air mattress that served as his bed. He became intimately acquainted with the taste of the breasts he obsessed over, and Leah grew bold enough to touch him through his pants. But Grandma inevitably coughed or rolled over in bed, minute sounds carrying through the ductwork and reminding them of the lack of privacy, and they pulled apart panting.

Sam couldn't wait for the day they could move into their own place. Could they get an apartment together when they went to college? Or would she want to live in a dorm for the full college experience? Would Harry kill him for suggesting they live together before they got married? Would her father stand for it if he put an engagement ring on her finger first?

He danced around the subject whenever it came up. He didn't want to propose without a ring, or move too fast and scare her. So he approached their plans obliquely. They still loved to talk about all the places across the country that they wanted to explore (Leah had recently discovered the existence of a building shaped like an elephant in New Jersey that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean, and he had learned about a set of life-sized set of dinosaur sculptures in California that they had to see), so Sam segued these conversations into prompts about going to college clear across the country, and from there he'd ask about where to live. He was relieved when her answers all started with the word "we". Eventually he worked up the nerve to mention getting a place together, and she absolutely loved the idea. That led to discussions about features they'd want in their eventual home. They tried to one up each other in their ideas. He wanted a plasma screen television, minimum 52 inches. She answered they should install a home movie theatre. She suggested a jacuzzi. He scoffed and said they should have a pool. They got more outlandish. She wanted a game room. He said they should put skeeball in the basement. He proposed a dumbwaiter between the floors. She said that they should create secret passages behind the bookcases.

But all he really wanted was her in his house, be it old or new, modest or expensive, in La Push or New York City. Plus a king sized bed in their bedroom.

X-x-x-x-X

Sophomore year proceeded with no other major changes, although Rachel and Johnny began to bicker more and more. Rebecca and Bobby immediately and consistently took sides in predictable fashion, and it got to the point that they they were probably arguing with each other more than Rachel and Johnny. The topics were often as trivial as the fight about Star Wars. Half the time Sam couldn't even figure out what the arguments were about. He tended to tune out as soon as someone raised their voice, sighing and turning to Leah. She would try to play referee for a while, occasionally succeeding. Some battles ended as mysteriously as they had begun. But more and more, once the others got going, there was often no stopping them.

When they were alone, Sam asked Leah to translate for him. He didn't really know what all the fuss was about, and when he talked to the guys, they tended to crab about PMS (an answer that never failed to infuriate the twins if they were within earshot) and how girls were all nuts. Leah explained that Johnny was getting "handsy" in a way that Rachel wasn't always comfortable with, and both the twins were starting to wonder if Johnny was only dating Rachel to try to get in her pants. Sam had to admit that Johnny's behavior wasn't really helping to dispel this idea, but he knew his friend well, and Johnny definitely felt more for Rachel than he let on. Sam wanted to know why Rachel was dating Johnny if that was what she thought, since she didn't seem to enjoy his company very much. Leah sadly speculated that hanging out with them got them out of their house, where they had a very hard time staying. Everywhere they looked they saw a reminder of their mother, and sometimes it was just too much. Sam understood this completely. He had always preferred the safety and comfort of the Clearwater house to his own. But he was beginning to think that Rachel was stringing his friend along.

It all came to a head at his sixteenth birthday party. Grandma Uley was doing much better by then, and his mother planned to move them back to their own house sometime during the winter break. But for now their home was empty. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that Leah threw him a surprise party in his unsupervised home on the night after he turned sixteen. But they had already celebrated, so he wasn't expecting another party. Allison, Grandma, and Leah had taken him to the Lodge for dinner, and the Clearwaters had given him a brand new mountain bike when they stopped by for homemade cake from Sue. Jacob had managed to pull Joshua's bike back from the brink of death twice already, but it had been run over by a student driver in the parking lot of the school, and there was no resurrecting it after that.

The next day, a Saturday, he left Grandma's house at dusk. He hadn't seen Leah all day long; she was busy helping Collin prepare for his upcoming English and Math tests. But she asked him to meet at her house to finish off his birthday cake and watch a movie with her. He arrived right after dinner. He shouldn't have been hungry after eating the dinner his mother had prepared, but there was always room for cake. So he had two slices.

Just as he finished scraping the last of the frosting off the plate, Leah's phone rang. It was his mother. She needed him to run back to their house. Grandma's furnace was apparently blowing cold air and she thought the pilot light had gone out, but they couldn't access it to relight it since they couldn't find an appropriately-sized flathead screwdriver to open the furnace's front panel. Could he get their toolbox and bring it back?

He was miffed to have his LeeLee time interrupted. Sue and Harry were actually out on a date, and Seth was at a friend's house. He couldn't remember the last time he and Leah had been genuinely alone, and he wanted to take advantage. Instead, Leah said she'd come with him. It wouldn't be the date they'd imagined, but they could still be together. They made the short trek through the woods to his house hand in hand. She was chilly, so he took the excuse to pull her tight against his side as they walked. They made slower progress that way, but he hardly minded. He kept looking down at her, peeking at the sparkle in her eye and the happy expression on her beautiful face and wondering what he'd done to deserve her. She told him he was warm, and he slipped his hand into hers inside her pocket. Could he get away with sliding his hand into her back pocket?

He stopped her on the step of the front porch. He couldn't wait any longer; she was irresistible. He turned her around, held onto both her hips, his fingers tantalizingly close to her round bottom, and pulled her in for a kiss. She tasted sweet, like Sue's frosting. Apparently she agreed. "You're so yummy, Sammy," she giggled. "But I'm cold out here. Let's go inside."

He agreed and handed her his house key, eyeing the way her jeans hugged her. His house was just as empty as hers. Maybe he could convince her to stay here for a while to warm up.

He was right that they'd stay a while, but they weren't alone. As he entered, she turned on the light, and a couple dozen people popped up and yelled, "Surprise!" Then Leah threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Happy birthday," she whispered in his ear. "I hope you don't mind."

He looked over her head and saw Bobby, Johnny, the twins, everyone in the high school he considered a friend, and nearly all the guys from Forks with whom he played soccer or basketball. The kitchen and living room were filled with balloons and streamers, and junk food was everywhere. "How could I possibly mind?" he asked as someone turned on music.

The party was fun, seeing all his friends together in one place was even better, and he even got a few good presents out of the deal. But the best part was how happy Leah was to have made him happy. Her huge smile was the best present he could have gotten.

And it didn't hurt that she had somehow convinced their parents to leave them unsupervised. She grinned mischievously and said she might have forgotten to tell them just how many people she had invited, and Allison was coming by around midnight to make sure her house wasn't trashed and that no drunk teenagers were passed out on her lawn. But that left them with a few hours to themselves.

Sam was happy to hang out with his friends for a while, especially since Leah was never far. He was fairly certain someone had spiked the punch, though, since it tasted a little odd and several people were becoming less inhibited as the night went along. Sam switched to soda as soon as he realized it, pushing visions of an angry Joshua out of sight of his mind's eye.

Within a couple hours, the party was in full swing. Music blasted, people were spilling onto the front and back porches, and a game of truth or dare was taking over the living room. Sam spotted Leah going down the darkened hallway and got up to follow. He really didn't care to see whether Mason Stanley would be able to bench press Olivia (he couldn't). He looked for Leah but didn't see her. The lights were off and the doors open to the bathroom, his mother's room, and his own.

He stepped forward only to be tugged into his bedroom. Leah pushed the door shut behind him with a loud, "Shhh!" and locked it. Then she took his hand in hers and looked up at him, grinning. She touched the tip of her finger to her lips.

He took the hint immediately and bent down to kiss her. She pressed herself against him, and he held her by her waist. She tasted like chocolate, and suddenly he was hungry. But not for food. He walked her back to his bed.

It was one of his very favorite fantasies. There were many places he imagined making love with LeeLee, but there was something about having her here that made him dizzy. He longed for the nights he spent curled against her in her bed or in their joined sleeping bags in her treehouse. He thought of the way her pillow smelled, warm and welcoming and all her. If he couldn't stay in her bed, he wanted his own to have that smell, that particularly LeeLee fragrance that he associated with home, covering his own sheets. He wanted a real memory of her in his bed.

He didn't even have to ask her. He had been trying to figure out how to get her onto the bed without separating his lips from hers and without pushing her down like a caveman. But when the back of her knees hit the mattress, she fell backward of her own accord and pulled him down by the front of his shirt.

He fell between her legs, and he kissed her like his life depended on it. It certainly felt like it did. He was hard as a rock, and he was as horny as he had ever been. She just looked so good. He had been staring at her all night (and he had caught several other boys looking as well). Her jeans fitted her perfectly, and her fuzzy sweater looked so temptingly touchable stretched across her chest. From time to time she'd reach up to push her long, shiny hair out of her face, and the movement would expose the tender skin of her belly. He had wanted to kiss that little flash of skin every time it made an appearance. He wanted to do that right now, but he wasn't sure he could tear himself away from her mouth. Her lips were impossibly full and soft, and her little tongue darting out and teasing his over and over was irresistible.

God. She felt so damn good underneath him. He wanted their clothes to disappear.

She pushed at his chest, and he snuffed a little in disappointment. But then he looked at her spread out beneath him. Her hair fanned out over his pillow, her lips were flushed and red, her eyes were hooded, and her breasts rose and fell as she panted. Fuck. She looked amazing.

Then he realized she was shoving him away. His brain managed to penetrate his haze of lust. He knelt up and off of her. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry LeeLee. I didn't mean..."

"No! Don't be sorry. I just wanted..." She trailed off and looked at a spot past his head. He wondered if she was blushing, but it was too dark to tell.

She squeezed her eyes shut, smiling to herself, and he wondered what was going on. Then she reached up, yanked him onto his back beside her, and rolled over to straddle his hips. Oh damn. Oh god. Oh yes. She was sitting right on his straining erection. He couldn't stop himself. He arched into her.

Ohhh. Was he imagining it? Or was she really warm there? His brain was frying. He was so overwhelmed with the sensations rocketing through his body that he almost didn't see her licking her lips, taking a deep breath, and whipping her sweater over her head. Oh, who was he kidding. He would have to be blind to miss such a thing.

She wore a thin camisole underneath. Without thinking, he reached out to touch the hem of the fabric. It was silky and soft, but not as soft as she was. In return, she pulled at the bottom of his shirt as well, and he awkwardly yanked it off without fully siting up. He would have been embarrassed about how smooth he wasn't if she hadn't distracted him. She swallowed hard and looked him right in the eye. "I'm gonna..." He nodded, and she pulled off the camisole. She was wearing a simple black bra underneath, and he stopped breathing. Was he imagining it, or were her breasts still getting bigger? Then he realized how tight the bra was becoming, how she was nearly spilling out of it. Oh, yeah.

If she hadn't spoken, he might have just lay mutely under her like a fool until his mother came home to check on them. "Do you want to..." she offered, almost looking shy. She wiggled a little on top of him, and he had to concentrate on not coming in his pants.

"Y-yeah." Dammit, did his voice crack? Seriously? She was such a siren, her body becoming so womanly and perfect, and he was just a dumb kid. But a dumb kid that she was allowing to take off her bra. She leaned forward so that he could loop his arms around her, and he swiftly unclasped it. Thank god he got it off without fumbling; he had had enough practice by now. He pulled the garment away and pulled her up, burying his face between her breasts. His cock throbbed at him in protest; she wasn't in striking distance any longer. But that was better. This way he wouldn't embarrass himself.

Plus he loved her breasts. He obsessed over them, maybe even more than he obsessed over her ass. He held onto her tightly and pulled a nipple into his mouth. He was far too aroused to pepper kisses on her flesh like he usually did, and judging from the stiffness of the little bud, so was she. Leah moaned in response to his delicate nips, and the sound caused explosions in his brain and in his groin.

He didn't know how long he spent licking her, kissing her, suckling at her, and rolling the tips between his fingers. She was making him crazy. Every little move she made above him, every whimper, every hitch in her breath, the way she dug her nails into his scalp. He knew she loved what he was doing as much as he did, and that was the very best part.

Or it was until she scooted back, moving her lovely breasts out of reach. He protested and reached for her, but she pushed him back firmly. Then she ground herself on his crotch, and he fell back with an embarrassing strangled noise in his throat. "I want to try something," she whispered. He barely heard her over the thumping of the music from the living room, and he couldn't manage words in response. He just nodded dumbly at her.

Then she moved off him entirely, and he frowned in confusion until she reached for the button of his jeans. Oh. Dear. God. "Is this okay, Sammy?" He gaped and blinked at her until he realized she wouldn't do anything else without his permission.

"Uh huh," he croaked.

She closed her eyes and took another steadying breath. He almost told her she didn't have to, because despite wanting this, whatever it was, more than he had ever wanted anything, he didn't want her to do anything she wasn't ready for. But then she opened her eyes and unzipped his fly. He lost the ability to speak. She tugged his jeans and boxers down far enough to release him, and then she knelt over him.

Oh god. Oh fuck. Was she... Was she... Ohhhh...

She bent down to kiss his shaft where it rested on his belly. He almost came on her face. He threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sight. Surely he would explode if he watched what she was doing. And then she took him into her warm hand.

Heaven. It was heaven. How could her little hand, her slender fingers, feel so much better than his own? Because they did. She gently and slowly explored him, running her fingers up and down, lifting him up and swirling her fingers around the base, tracing the veins with tentative touches. It was the best thing he had ever experienced. And then she gripped him in her fist and started to pump.

"Fuck..." he heard himself saying.

She stopped moving. "Am I hurting you? Should I stop?"

He moved his arm and raised up his head, looking at her incredulously. "No! Nonononono, don't stop!" He heard desperation in his voice and wished it wasn't there, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The alarm on her face faded into a beautiful smile. The same smile that made him weak in the knees. It was a good thing he was lying down. He'd have fallen otherwise. "Okay," she answered.

And then she resumed pumping him. This time he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes again. The sight of her, topless and leaning over him, her fist wrapped around his cock, her pretty eyes locked in concentration on what she was doing, and best of all, the little dimple in her cheek as she gained confidence, he would never forget. Perfection.

He silently congratulated himself for jacking off in the shower right before he went to her house. If he hadn't just had a release (while fantasizing about, well, basically this) just hours before, he would already have come. And the longer this lasted, the better. Because life couldn't possibly get better than this. Or so he thought.

Until she licked her lips again, leaned down, and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock.

It was sheer bliss. He barely had time to register the heat, the delicate touch of her tongue, the suction, before he shouted her name, buried his hands in her hair, and exploded. He missed how her shocked eyes widened hugely as his own eyes rolled into the back of his head. He came so hard and so long he thought he'd pass out. And she didn't let up. Not until he softened enough to pop out of her mouth.

When he managed to regain enough motor control to open his eyes, she was covering her mouth with her hand. There was a little wrinkle in her nose and a slightly befuddled expression on her face. But with her top off and her hair in disarray around her head, she still looked hot. And adorable. She swallowed loudly, and then she lowered her hand to her lap. "Happy birthday?" For some reason it sounded like a question.

He grinned at her like a moron. "Best birthday ever. You really didn't have to, but..."

"Did I do it wrong?"

He barked out a laugh. "Uh, you know how that ended? That means you did it right."

She suddenly looked shy, and he couldn't fathom why. She was so damn perfect. "I didn't know what I was doing."

"You were amazing. It was amazing." He reached out for her, and she fell toward him. Ah. That was much better. She was right where she belonged: in his arms. She was tucked against his neck.

He dropped kisses into her hair and ran his fingers up and down her spine. The bare skin was sensitive, and she shivered. She threw her leg over his and squirmed a little against him, and he realized that maybe she hasn't just done this for his benefit. Wow. Was it possible? She was turned on, wasn't she?

He let his instincts take over. He didn't know how far she wanted him to go, but he knew she loved it when he kissed her breasts. So he rolled her over and reached out to gently touch one. She arched into his hand, and he knew he was on the right track. He kissed his way along her jaw and neck, then down her chest. Just as he was about to take the pebbled tip into his mouth again, though, she surprised him.

"Sammy?"

He froze with his tongue poised millimeters over her nipple. Shit. Did she not want him to touch her? Was he reading the situation all wrong? Was he completely misinterpreting her?

"Sammy." She ran her fingers through his hair. It was soft, but even through the loud music, there was no mistaking what she said. "I love you."

He didn't move. He didn't know what to say. No, that wasn't true. He knew exactly what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to say it back. But it wouldn't come out. Nothing came out, not even air. Because the sounds of the party faded into a dull roar. Her smooth skin underneath him blurred into the color of his sheets. And suddenly he felt dizzy. From the recesses of his mind came a sound he hadn't heard in seven years: his father's thick and pleading voice begging his mother for forgiveness while saying those very same words.

Reality snapped back into place as he felt Leah squirming beneath him. She was trying to get out. Oh, no. How long had he been locked in place above her? What did she think of him? Did she regret what she had said? He lifted his head and moved his arm to her shoulder, keeping her in place, and he looked at her.

Her eyes were darting around the ceiling, looking anywhere but at him. She was biting her lip, a little sign of nervousness that was completely unlike her. She was trying to shield her naked chest from him.

He felt like an ass. Because no matter what Joshua meant, no matter what he had done to Allison or to him, no matter whether his father had forever tainted those words or not, what Leah meant was pure and good. For as long as he remembered, she had only ever shown him decency, humor, kindness, generosity, friendship, and respect. And she meant all of those things and more when she said the words to him. And he felt them all right back.

Before he could return the sentiment, shrieking sounded from the living room. And then swearing. And then a shouting match ensued.

Dammit! The twins were on a rampage.

Leah slid out from under him and slipped on her bra while he searched for his shirt. He needed to stop her before she left. "LeeLee..."

But she was already gone. He followed her out to find Rachel in tears, Rebecca absolutely fuming, and Johnny protesting his innocence.

A few of the boys were snickering in a corner, and the few girls who were present gathered around Rachel to form a protective shield. Bobby was trying to tell the twins that it wasn't Johnny's fault that they looked alike.

Rebecca looked at her tearful sister, sent a withering glance at Bobby, and then slapped Johnny across the cheek with a resounding _whap._

Johnny really shouldn't have felt up Rebecca. Because not only did it ruin his relationship with her sister, the incident affected Sam's too.

Leah left the party with Rachel and Rebecca, feeling the need to support her friends. She glanced at him briefly on her way out, and he knew he wouldn't get the chance to tell her how he felt that night. But it was his birthday, she was his best friend before she was his girlfriend, and she wanted him to be happy even if she herself was scared. So when she caught the despondent look in his eye, she ran back in, threw her arms around his neck, and whispered, "Happy birthday, Sammy." She was across the room again before he could answer, shouting out instructions to the assembled group to make sure they stripped the house of anything incriminating since Allison would be by to check on the place soon.

It was shocking how quickly the house emptied out. Soon only Johnny and Bobby remained, and since they were both nicer and well-mannered than they had displayed earlier in the night, they even cleaned up a little as they talked.

Johnny thought that after Rachel and Becca calmed down, maybe his girlfriend would take him back. Sam knew it was wishful thinking. The twins had loved how alike they looked when they were younger, sometimes making a game of tricking teachers into thinking one was the other, but in their adolescence they valued their individuality. Even if Becca decided to forgive Johnny for grabbing at her, Rachel was too hurt that he didn't know which one she was.

Sam was right. Johnny realized it on Monday when he tried to talk to Rachel during lunch. She wouldn't even look at him. Becca maintained that Johnny was a jerk on more than one level. She had pushed him away when he reached for her boobs, but he still hadn't figured out who she was until she yelled it at him.

"You seriously still couldn't tell them apart?" Sam asked after they found a new place to sit. He kept looking back at Leah, but she had her back turned to him, and she was huddled together with the twins. He had tried to see her the day before, but she had been visiting Emily in Neah Bay. Grandma missed her during waffle brunch almost as much as he did.

Johnny shook his head. "No, I mean, yeah, I can tell 'em apart now."

Sam returned his attention to his friends when he realized that Leah wasn't going to look at him anytime soon. "Good. 'Cause they look alike, but not completely alike," Sam added.

"Yeah," Johnny agreed. "Becca's more... uh... And Rachel is more... Mmm..."

"What?" Sam wondered why Johnny looked so uncomfortable. "What is it?"

Bobby started laughing. Hard. "Tell him how you tell them apart. Dude. Tell him!"

Johnny sighed heavily. "You can't tell Leah, man. Seriously. I'll never get her back that way."

"I think that ship has sailed already, and it's not like she doesn't know." Bobby shook his head.

"No it hasn't! She likes me!"

"Not now, she doesn't. Not anymore. Now that she knows how you tell them apart."

Sam was perplexed. "How?"

"Well," Johnny sighed, "I used to wait to see which one of them smiled at me and said hi all sweet like."

"Seriously?" Sam blinked. "You waited for her to point herself out, basically?"

"Uh..." Johnny scratched his head.

"He eventually figured out how they look different," Bobby snickered.

Sam nodded. "Good. Because they're not _totally_ identical." He had trouble explaining the subtle differences, but he never had trouble identifying them.

Bobby was still laughing. "Tell him what you figured out."

Johnny covered his face with his hands and mumbled into them. "Rach has bigger boobs, and Becca has a bigger ass."

Sam couldn't help himself. He joined Bobby in laughing at Johnny. "Wait, so how'd you get them confused last night?"

Johnny was still muffling himself with his hands. "Becca was wearing a padded bra, I think. Or that's what it felt like, anyway."

Bobby could barely speak through his hysterical laughter. "And Sam, you won't believe it. This moron totally spilled his guts! He told her how he tells them apart, like it was going to make them forgive him!"

"Jeez. How much punch did you have to drink last night?"

Johnny just groaned.

X-x-x-x-X

Just as Sam expected, Johnny and Rachel were over. He didn't tell Leah about Johnny's method of differentiating the twins, but they did themselves. She joined her best friends in their anger. Sam thought the girls were all overreacting slightly, since although Johnny was an idiot, he was a nice and well intentioned idiot. Plus he was right about their respective... attributes.

But they wouldn't be pacified. And to his surprise, neither would Leah. She wasn't furious the way Becca was, but Rachel was really hurt, and Leah couldn't stand to see her friend in so much pain. He finally got a chance to talk to her by herself after they left school. She had promised Allison she'd cook dinner at Grandma Uley's, and Sam was grateful she didn't try to squirm her way out of it. She was holding herself apart from him in a way that made him nervous, clutching a book to her chest instead of keeping his hand in hers. He didn't know what to say, so he started with what he thought would be a neutral topic. "How's Emily?"

Leah shrugged. "She's okay. Had another date on Saturday with some new guy."

Sam couldn't care less about Emily's love life, but he really wanted Leah to keep talking to him. "Yeah? She like him?"

"I'm not sure. It's hard to tell, you know? Like, she talks about guys like they're amazing, but then when you ask her what she likes about them, ask her to be specific, and she can't come up with much."

Sam hadn't thought about it before, but now that she mentioned it, Leah was right. Since Mark had dumped her, he had gotten the impression she had had a string of dates that went nowhere. "She doesn't like being single very much, does she?"

"That's just it! I can never tell if she really likes someone, or if she just doesn't want to be alone. I don't really get it. The guys she dates aren't really worth her time, as far as I can tell."

"The one this weekend was another loser?"

Leah nodded vigorously. "Another dropout with no job. I don't get it. She's so great, you know?" Sam didn't know, but Leah truly believed it. "She's so nice and sweet, and really talented. She showed me some mixed-media stuff she's working on. She combines sculpture with painting and the art literally rises off the canvas. It's so cool! And she's so, so pretty! She's gorgeous, don't you think?"

Sam shrugged. He only ever saw Emily when his LeeLee was standing next to her, and other girls looked drab and dull in comparison. "I guess."

"She's probably too pretty for her own good. She attracts attention, and the guys with the guts to go after her aren't the ones that are any good for her." Her voice hardened. "But I don't get why she goes out with those creeps. She can do so much better than them, plus there's nothing wrong with being single."

Sam picked up on the edge in her voice. When had Emily's dates gone from losers to creeps? "Did something happen? Is she okay?"

"Oh," Leah huffed, "Nothing that bad, I don't think. It's just, she goes out with guys who expect a lot for a little, you know?"

Sam didn't know. "Huh?"

"Like, they buy her dinner, and then they think she owes them... physically." And Sam finally understood why Leah was so guarded today. Over the weekend, the male species had collectively made it clear that they were after one thing and one thing only: Johnny's unwelcome groping of Becca, Emily's latest jerk of a date, and even him. He had acted no better. He felt ashamed. She had given a gift of herself that went well beyond physical pleasure, and when she opened herself to him and told him she loved him, he had frozen. While his feelings for her ran deeper for her than he could ever express, more than she could possibly understand, it was also true that ever since puberty's hormones took over his body, a part of him felt only pure and uncomplicated lust for her. Even now, an unquestionably inappropriate time to be thinking of sex, he was looking forward to the moment they'd arrive inside and she'd shed her fluffy winter coat to reveal her fitted sweater. And ever since he had figured out exactly what she looked like under those enticing tops, he found himself mentally undressing her in the most awkward of circumstances. But he while he tried shake his mind free of such thoughts (and in the attempt, only made them worse), she kept talking. "She doesn't necessarily agree, but they make her feel bad about it. I try to tell her that being treated like that: it's not right and it's not okay. But then the next guy treats her the same way, and she seems to think that's just the way it is."

"Is she..." Sam knew that some girls didn't really have a problem with that, and some even felt the same way or were casual about sex to begin with, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding like an ass. "... okay with that?"

"No, she isn't. Not really. She's a romantic at heart. She wants a knight in shining armor to ride up on a white horse. She wants flowers and chocolates. She wants grand gestures. She wants tall, dark and handsome to put her up on a pedestal. She wants a diamond solitaire on a platinum ring and a white wedding. She wants somebody to fall head over heels for her and think she's the center of the universe."

Sam didn't think he was much of a knight or that he was particularly handsome (he also knew that for some reason Leah disagreed about this last part), but he was pretty sure that Emily wanted someone to feel for her like he did for Leah. He cherished her as much as he wanted her. "And instead she got..."

She spat out the name like it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Mark. And a bunch of guys just like him."

"So what, she keeps dating more guys hoping one of them will be turn out to be 'The One'?" He put his fingers up in air quotes.

"I guess. But she's got crappy taste, and you don't need to be psychic to know that none of them are. I just don't get why she can't just stay single."

Sam tried to imagine dating a different girl every weekend, and he failed. There was nothing appealing about it; he could search the world, and he'd never find another LeeLee. Even if he could find another girl as beautiful, as generous, as smart, as funny, and as kind (he highly doubted this was possible), nobody else would _get_ him the way she did. Then he tried to imagine Leah dating a string of other guys, and it made him nauseous. Thinking of her with anyone but him made him kind of crazy, and he really couldn't feel bad about his jealous streak since it was what gave him the guts to go after her in the first place. But he knew that any number of guys would jump at the chance to be with her if he ever screwed things up. He promised himself that he'd never screw up, not like that, and he hoped that if he somehow did, she'd take her own advice and stay single until he could fix things between them. "Is that what Rachel's going to do?"

"Rach? I think she will. Johnny kind of..."

"Fucked up," he filled in.

She laughed, and he loved it. Even if it was at the expense of their friends. But then her face fell. "Well, yeah. But what I meant was that he kind of broke her heart."

"He really likes her, you know. He didn't mean anything bad, I swear."

She sighed heavily. "Mean to or not, you don't hit on a girl's sister and expect her to laugh it off."

"I know, but they're twins! He thought Becca was her! It's not like he knowingly did it."

"Yeah, that's not going over so well. She just... she really liked him. Look, here we are." She nodded ahead of them.

Crap. They were already going up Grandma's driveway. He tried to figure out what to say in the seconds he had left before they weren't alone any longer. He should have figured out a segue to their own relationship. Back to how he felt about her. He felt silly just blurting it out, plus he didn't know exactly what to blurt out anyway.

Before he figured it out, she was inside and hugging his grandmother.

Grandma and Leah basically talked nonstop until Allison came home. Grandma sat at the table chopping vegetables and grinding spices together while Leah stood at the stove. He wanted to pull her aside, but what he was actually supposed to do was to strip all the bedding and take it down to the basement laundry, which he did. While the meal was simmering and the linens were in the wash, he and Leah both joined Grandma at the table, but still the chatter didn't stop. She ate with them as soon as Allison got home, his mother immensely grateful for the warm food awaiting her after a long day of work. As Sam rose to walk Leah home, Grandma grabbed Leah's hand and yanked her down for another hug. She looked over Leah's shoulder and grinned at him. "This one's a keeper, Sammy. You make sure she gets home safe."

They walked back in silence. Sam couldn't figure out where to begin, and Leah was apparently all talked out. He wanted to reach for her hand, but they were stuffed deep into her pockets, and the way she walked so stiffly beside him, he didn't feel comfortable slipping his hand inside. He adjusted her backpack in his grip instead. With every step they took, he felt the right words, whatever they were, slip farther and farther away.

So he just kept glancing at her, hoping inspiration would strike. Instead she just distracted him. The air was cold and damp, and she was getting chilly. She zipped her coat up all the way, flipping the collar up to cover her neck and chin. She hunched her shoulders, and then just her nose was peeking out above the collar. She looked adorable, like the cutest turtle he had ever seen. Her skin had lost the deep tan of summer, so when they passed a streetlight, he saw the pink flush in her cheeks. Then he thought of the deep, rich pink shade that her lips had been when she'd put her mouth on him, and every other thought flew out of his brain.

Suddenly he was hard, and he tried to adjust himself without her noticing. He was jammed into his pants at an uncomfortable angle. He fell slightly behind her using a muddy pothole in the ground as an excuse, but that just gave him a nice view of her round ass peeking out from beneath her jacket. She glanced back at him before he could shift his erection, and he was certain she had seen him checking her out.

She turned quickly away, and he struggled to find something to say. Should he apologize? Make a joke about how hard it was to ogle her in winter outerwear? Should he tell her how hot she was? Or at least how beautiful? Should he tell her how completely addled his brain was because of her? How he couldn't form a coherent sentence because she rendered him speechless? That he dreamed about her waking and sleeping, not only of stripping off all her clothes and making her feel as good as she did him, but of doing so every day for the rest of their lives? He had developed a particularly intimate and embarrassing fantasy of their wedding night, of pulling up her long white dress around her waist, yanking her panties aside, and burying himself inside of her without even getting her undressed.

He wanted her so badly. It was even worse since he knew the bliss of being inside of her mouth. Maybe he really was as shallow as she was afraid he was. He was thinking with his dick instead of his brain, and his heart was caught in the middle.

Before he knew it, they were standing on her front porch. She turned to take her backpack from him with a little, "Thank you," and the second he saw her pretty lips emerge from behind her collar, he couldn't help himself.

He bent down to kiss them. It started off gentle and sweet, but he wanted more of her, so much more, and soon he had dropped her pack and had his arms around her. She hesitated, but then one of her hands found the back of his neck, and the other tightened on his arm, and he deepened it. She tasted so good. He teased her tongue with his, sucked her plump bottom lip into his mouth, and gently nipped at it, making her gasp. The sound went straight to his groin. "LeeLee," he groaned. She responded by licking tenderly at his lips, and he remembered that same tongue laving the crown of his dick, and he ached for her. He lowered his lips to her jaw, to her neck, and she hummed in her throat. He felt the vibration.

Then she whimpered his name, and something about her tone broke through his lust and into his brain. He pressed his lips to hers once more, then he pulled back. She needed to know. He had to tell her. "LeeLee, I..."

The door flew open. "Hi, Sam!" Seth called out brightly. They yanked themselves apart, and Sam glowered at Leah's interfering brother. Then he noticed the boy shifting his eyebrows up and down, and he realized he was getting a warning. Harry was coming.

Sam grabbed her bag and shoved it in her arms, and then he realized he should have kept it to use as a shield so her father couldn't see the hard-on he was sprouting. Dammit. He needed a longer jacket. He turned around and threw a goodbye to a stunned Leah and a suspicious Harry, who had appeared behind Seth in the doorway. Then he ran off.

The minutes ticked by impossibly slowly as he waited for bedtime. He had followed the rules for months, kissing her goodnight on her front porch rather than scaling the trellis and entering her room like he wanted to. But now was not the time to obey. He knew that she was starting to doubt his feelings for her, and he refused to let it go on any longer. She was too important, more important than anything and anyone, and he couldn't stand knowing she might be hurting because she didn't understand that.

But he did need to wait until Allison and Grandma went to bed before leaving the house. Normally his mom went to sleep relatively early; chasing toddlers all day long was exhausting, and she had to get up early every day. She never even got a break on the weekend any longer since she worked the desk at the resort. But tonight she took forever, lingering in the living room chatting with Grandma, who was an insomniac.

When the women finally went to bed, Sam didn't even wait until he was certain they were asleep. He crept out the door silently and picked his way to her house. As he approached, he could tell that lights were still on due to the distinctive glow on the ground. Even Leah was still awake. The little light on her desk was on, although he couldn't tell where she was from his vantage point. And he was dismayed to find Harry and Sue sitting at the kitchen table together. There was no way he could climb to the roof; the access was much too close to the kitchen window. So he crept behind the tree that held her rarely-used treehouse, and he watched and waited.

Harry and Sue must have been having some kind of romantic evening. Sue was sipping a glass of wine while Harry's was on the table in front of him. He had his wife's feet in his lap and was massaging one while saying something that made her laugh. It looked sweet, but Sam couldn't wait for it to be over.

He waited... and waited... and waited. He spotted movement in Leah's room, and it turned out to be Seth. He must have been hanging out with his sister, so it was probably just as well that Sam didn't interrupt them. He didn't want an audience, after all. Harry and Sue kept laughing and talking. Eventually Leah's light went out, and he vaguely saw her shadow as she climbed into bed. Sam got cold, and eventually he had trouble feeling his toes. And still Harry and Sue remained in the kitchen. Eventually Sue stood, and he perked up from where he was slouched against the tree. But no, she was just getting more wine. Dammit! Why couldn't Leah's parents storm off angry or something? Or at least get more amorous and take their conversation to the bedroom? Oh, eww. Sam shook the thought out of his brain before it got any farther.

When he couldn't feel his fingers in his pockets or anything below his ankles, he gave up and went home. He'd just have to tell her the next day.

X-x-x-x-X

Unfortunately, the longer he waited, the more awkward it became. He could feel Leah pulling away from him. She was there, of course, but she didn't make herself available in the same way. He realized they were never really alone anymore. At first he thought it was a coincidence, but eventually he knew it had to be deliberate on her part. Someone was always there. Always. Seth, most commonly, or the Black twins. Collin even. Her parents, his grandmother, his mother. Their only time to themselves was during their walk to school, and that was only for the few minutes between him arriving on her doorstep and passing in front of the Black house, where the twins joined them. During those moments she talked about everything and nothing. At first he didn't want to interrupt her, trying not to be rude. Eventually he figured out that she was nervous, and she didn't let him get a word in edgewise to calm her down. During school there was no privacy, and every afternoon she fled to Collin's house to tutor him or went home with the twins, supposedly comforting Rachel in the wake of the breakup. She came to Grandma's house as expected on Wednesday, but after helping him make dinner, she disappeared out the door without letting him walk her home. And in the evenings, Grandma never went to sleep before one in the morning, and he kept falling asleep in his basement room before he could sneak out to talk to her. He thought about sending her a message, but this was not something he wanted to IM or text to her even if his mother had sprung for the function on his phone.

By the time the weekend rolled around, he felt like the gap between them had widened into a chasm. He hadn't gotten more than a dozen words out of her all day long. He blamed the twins as much as he blamed himself. He was pretty sure they had lumped him in with Johnny and were badmouthing him. It hadn't helped that he had tried to defend Johnny in front of Becca earlier in the week; after all, Johnny had stood by him when he was doing nothing but making enemies, and he owed his friend that much.

That afternoon he couldn't even find her to walk her back to her house or bring her to see Grandma Uley. Then Grandma and his mother kept him busy with little tasks and house repairs until bedtime. But by some miracle, both women went to bed before midnight.

Sam was out the door like a shot. He sprinted to her house without bothering to tie his shoes or put on a jacket, a truly stupid move seeing as cold rain was falling steadily. He was shivering and his lips and fingers were blue by the time he reached her house.

And Sue, of course, was sitting at the kitchen table in her scrubs eating dinner. Great. She must have gotten home after an evening shift at the hospital. Her plate was full. She had just started.

Screw it. He would get in trouble, then. It was worth it. She was worth it. He'd only have a little time to get to her since Sue would undoubtedly hear him climbing. But he only needed a few seconds.

He tried to be quiet anyway, but it was impossible to be truly silent. Especially since the rain made everything slippery and his fingers were frozen and nearly useless. He nearly fell off the trellis and slipped o the roof. But his racket meant that Leah heard him coming too, and she had the window open before he got his fingers on the sill.

Her eyes were wide, her hair mussed around her head, her lovely lips parted in surprise. She wore a button up flannel shirt that probably wasn't meant to be sexy, but it exposed a bit of her cleavage in the V at the top, and she looked entirely kissable and loveable and gorgeous. The rain that had rendered him uncoordinated was hitting her, too, and the little patch of skin he could see at the top of her chest was getting wet and was tempting him. He literally shook his lustful thoughts from his brain so he wouldn't get himself in the same situation he had been in the last few times he should have told her how he felt.

He spotted movement behind her, and shit. It wasn't even Sue. It was Emily. She was climbing off an air mattress to kneel next to her cousin and stared at Sam in slack-jawed amazement. "Leah? What's going on? Sam?"

Sam ignored her just as he ignored the footsteps he heard approaching through the closed door.

He didn't have time for a real speech, so he answered her words with his own clumsy ones, picking right up where she had left off while they held each other in his bedroom. "I do too, LeeLee. I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier." Sue knocked at the door, and then it was open, light spilling in from the hallway. "You're just so pretty I can't think straight sometimes. I can't remember how to put a noun in front of a verb in front of an object. You're so wonderful and amazing, and then there's me. I can't remember English around you sometimes. I can hardly remember my own name. There's only yours. Sometimes it's the only word I know. It's because you're so... you..." He gestured at her helplessly, unable to express himself any better. "You make me totally crazy in the best possible way. You make me lose my damn mind." Harry appeared in the doorway in an old robe alongside his wife. "I can't figure out how to say it better, so I hope you get it."

Now it was her turn to be speechless. She just nodded at him wordlessly, and he grinned through the freezing water that dripped into his eyes and made her blurry. "See? That's one of the reasons I do. Because you get me."

"I do," she finally whispered back, and she reached out for him, leaning out the window and soaking herself too. He thought he spotted Seth joining his parents in the doorway somewhere behind Emily, but then he didn't see anyone else but Leah. Because she had her arms around him, and he had his arms around her, and then he was kissing her with his frigid lips.

It was perfect.

And then he registered her parents yelling at both of them to get inside and shut the window. He didn't bother. He didn't need to be warm or dry. All he needed was for her to understand, and she did. So he let her go, because he didn't want her to freeze to death. He pressed his mouth to hers one more time and turned to jump off the roof.

He heard Emily shriek while Sue and Harry yelled, but mud broke his fall. His shoes were probably ruined, and one was stuck in the muck, but oh well. He backed away enough to wave at her from the ground with what was surely an asinine grin that she probably couldn't see since it was so dark. She laughed and waved back and blew him a kiss. "I do, LeeLee, never doubt it!" he yelled.

"I love you too, Sammy!" she answered back. He jogged away, so icy on the outside that he could barely get his limbs to cooperate, but warm on the inside, because she loved him.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to my beta, Babs81410. This story will be on a very short hiatus while I go on vacation, but look for the next chapter in the first week of October.


	15. Virgins

Saying "I do too" became something of a ritual. Or it did for him, anyway. She would declare her love for him, and he would return it. But not by saying he loved her; he would just say, "I do too." He didn't know exactly what kept him from saying more, or from initiating the words himself. It wasn't that he was embarrassed; she knew him inside and out, had seen him through his darkest moments and loved him anyway, and there were no secrets between them. And it wasn't that he wasn't affectionate. He never hesitated to kiss her or hold her in front of his friends or hers, so long as she let him. It wasn't as if no one could tell how he felt about her; his friends dubbed him whipped, and he didn't bother protesting. And it was definitely not that he didn't love her; he loved her with everything he was. He loved her so much that the word itself didn't encompass the emotion. It was too petty and small. It was a word that got tossed about far too casually by far too many people. They said they loved certain foods or television shows or their favorite teams. It was written in greeting cards and sung about by boy bands. Men like his father used it to trick women like his mother into giving away their hearts. The word simply wasn't enough.

But he never believed, not for one second, that when LeeLee said she loved him, she meant anything trite. She loved him wholeheartedly and without reservation. She was free of guile and innocent of malice. She gave of herself freely and without any expectation of gain. So he knew what it meant to love and be loved, because LeeLee defined the emotion for him. He just didn't know how to tell her.

Instead he showed her. She loved the story of his childhood quest to kiss her dimple, so he made a habit of asking to see it and then giving it its own affectionate greeting. When they parted, he never let her go without sweeping her up in a hug and kissing her, either gently and softly if their parents were nearby, or passionately and for as long as possible if they had privacy. He followed Grandma's instructions and carried her things and opened doors for her. He let her pick the movies they watched, and if they were boring romantic comedies or period pieces (which she didn't usually make him suffer through unless one of her girlfriends was also there to sway her opinion), he'd ignore the movie and just watch her. When she twisted her ankle badly while they were jogging together on a slippery forest path after a rainstorm, he carried her home, put her in Sue's car himself, and refused to leave her side until the ER tech shooed him out of the X ray suite. For the next two days, he carried her everywhere until she laughingly forced him to stop. Then he made certain her crutches were always in reach.

And from time to time, he'd look down at her smiling at him, and she'd tell him she loved him, tell him she was so happy to be his, and he'd wonder why she was giving herself to him. He could hardly believe it. Then again, being with her felt like the most natural thing in the world, so perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised.

The only thing that frustrated him was not being able to get enough time alone with her. They saw each other constantly, but there was almost always someone around. And he hated to complain about her generous nature, but he sometimes wished that she would be more generous to him and less to everyone else. On weekdays, either one of both of them was helping Grandma Uley, or she was tutoring Collin, or they were at her house and she was making sure Seth was fed or doing his homework. Sundays they still spent with Grandma, and at nighttime he respected their parents' rules and stayed out of her bedroom. Emily came to visit some weekends, and during others, they still liked to see their friends. The rare Saturday was their only reprieve, when neither had plans with their friends and she came to his house while Allison was still at the resort.

They weren't alone again for four weeks, weeks during which he wondered how he'd managed to go an entire sixteen years of life without her hands and mouth on him. He fantasized about her almost non-stop, getting so distracted in class that he had to struggle to keep his grades up. He set his own dinner on fire one evening while daydreaming about her lips. The only thing that was stronger than his lust for her was his anxiety over pleasing her the way she did him. He knew the mechanics, of course, starting with the insertion of Tab A into Slot 1. But he couldn't fathom when that might happen. He suspected she would be willing if he asked, but he had no idea how to ask. More importantly, he didn't want to try actual sex until he was certain he could make it good for her. On that point, he was much less confident. Terrified, in fact. So he didn't push at all.

But after the first time at his birthday party, she decided she wanted to perfect her oral technique the very next time they had his house to themselves. He reassured her that she was amazing, but she told him there was always room for improvement, and she wanted to be the best. What was he to do if she wanted to practice on him?

Sam tried to be good, not wanting her to think he was only interested in her for her body, but he was too desperate for her. Seeing a hint of her bare skin made his mouth water. Taking off her shirt made his hands itch. Her hands on him made him want to beg. He tried to keep himself in check, he did, but she was just too much. So he let her.

Maybe it was her openness. Maybe it was her effortless beauty. Maybe it was her sense of adventure and experimentation. Maybe it was her enthusiasm, or even her innate competitiveness. Maybe it was just his pubertal hormones taking over, but she was a natural at pleasing him. Everything she did to him made him feel indescribably good.

When she was finished and he finally gathered himself back into some semblance of functionality, he felt a mix of emotions from her. Her smile demonstrated how she truly enjoyed bringing him bliss. A glint in her eye made him suspect she felt a bit of pride for rendering him helpless. And the flush of her skin and her rapid breathing made him wonder how much pleasure she herself derived from the act.

"You're so...," he whispered after he pulled her up to lie on him, and he kissed her. "That was so... so..."

He didn't know how to explain it, but it didn't matter. She murmured, "I'm glad," and then she kissed him back. He felt how stiff her nipples were against his chest, and his spent cock twitched. God. She really was turned on, wasn't she? As if answering his unspoken question, she whispered, "I loved it. I love making you feel good."

He crushed her to him, his hands pressed into the bare skin above her spine. She wiggled above him, her hips squirming, and he slowly lowered one hand to the hem of her pants. She kissed him harder and shifted so she was straddling him, and he wondered whether she was trying to push her core against him through her clothes. He wanted to stop and ask her how far he could go, but neither of them seemed able to separate their lips. So he just let his hand slowly wander downward until he was cupping her bottom, afraid that at any second she'd bat him away. She didn't.

Oh. Wow. The tips of his fingers were getting close to intimate territory. "I want to make you feel good too, LeeLee."

Her only response was a little whimper that brought blood rushing back to his groin. He wanted to record the sound so he could play it back when he fantasized about her. He slipped his hand lower, and when she rocked back to increase the contact, he was hard again. Damn. That was fast. What would happen if he actually got her naked? Would he embarrass himself and come all over her before he had a chance to do anything? Thank goodness she had already gotten him off. Otherwise he'd be in trouble.

He had no idea what he was doing, but increasing the pressure of his hand seemed like a start. She panted and squirmed against him more, and he figured he was on the right track until he realized he would never make any progress with her jeans on. "Will you... Can I..."

That was when he decided she was psychic. She climbed off him, terrifying him that he had offended her somehow, or maybe that he just irritated her with his inability to form complete sentences. But she reached for the button of her jeans. He shot up in his bed and stopped her with a hand, pulling hers away to her sides. He wanted to do that. So she let him.

And then he stared at her. He just looked, slack jawed and wide eyed, while she stood naked in his childhood bedroom, shifting from foot to foot. Maybe only ten seconds passed. Possibly ten minutes. But by the end of it, he was wondering if he could get away with burning every stitch of clothing she owned, and she was wondering if there was something wrong with her body. When she finally moved her arms to cover herself and shrank down a little, his brain finally turned back on. He pulled her hands into his and groaned, "I'm just memorizing you. You're fucking perfect." His voice cracked in the middle, and he felt like an idiot until he saw her anxiety fade from her face.

But then he pulled her down, and he touched every inch of her. He started with what he already knew: her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, her arms, her fingers, her breasts. He turned her over and discovered every sensitive spot on her back. He kissed and caressed and licked, all above the waist, until she was squirming. Later she would tell him that it was a more sensual and arousing act than she had thought was possible, while he admitted that the long attention he lavished on her was a way to postpone revealing how clueless he was about what to do with her.

And then she finally begged. Her voice was broken and pleading. "Sammy. God, Sam. Please. Please!" And no force on earth could have stopped him then. His fear was overcome by his need to please her. He turned her onto her back and slipped his hand where she wanted him, and she arched off the bed with a wail.

It was the single hottest thing he had ever seen. He wanted to kiss her, but then he'd be too close to watch. So he sat back on his heels and explored her with his fingers. She was slippery and warm and sensitive, and he had no idea what he was doing.

It didn't matter. He fumbled and prodded and tickled in what felt to him like the most clumsy and ridiculous manner, but purely by chance he touched the right spots, and she responded. And then he realized that he hardly had to do anything at all. He finally slid his middle finger into the hottest, wettest, tightest place in the world, and she grabbed his wrist with her right hand and his bedsheets with her left. He thought he'd hurt her for a second and tried to pull away, but she held fast. And then he realized what she was doing. She threw her head back, pressed herself down more fully against the heel of his hand (where he belatedly realized her clit must be located), and writhed on his hand.

She moaned and whimpered and cooed her pleasure, and he gained confidence as he watched and felt her. She never let go of his wrist, so he couldn't pump his finger in and out like he thought he was supposed to. So he did what he was able. He ground his palm into the little firm nub, and he stroked with his finger.

She was absolutely fucking gorgeous when she came.

X-x-x-x-X

Opportunities like that were few and far between, but over the next few months they explored each other any chance they had. Which were frustratingly lacking, unfortunately. It did help that the winter months were largely void of ways for Sam to earn money, which freed up his schedule slightly. But the more time he was able to spend with her (and Collin and Seth and Grandma and Sue and Harry), the more he realized he needed to earn money so he could buy a car not only for their eventual road trip, but to take her somewhere private. The idea of parking on an abandoned road or trail with his sweetheart had previously seemed like an dumb stereotype, but he finally understood the urge.

He didn't tell his friends about how far he and Leah had gotten; it wasn't any of their business, and he didn't want them thinking of about her any more than they already did (he realized his jealous streak might be too pronounced when he wanted to tape Johnny's eyes shut so he couldn't look at Leah). But they jumped to their own conclusions when he contemplated eventually buying a van. They teased him mercilessly about putting a mattress in the back and curtains over the windows, but they shut both their mouths when he threatened to pummel them both if they implied anything about his LeeLee.

He was awfully smug when he realized they were actually a little afraid of him. Likewise, it didn't escape their attention that he neither confirmed nor denied whether he had actually gone all the way with her.

It was actually his decision to wait. Other than infrequency due to the lack of privacy, which he blamed on everyone and everything, Sam couldn't claim sexual frustration considering her skillful and enthusiastic employment of her hands, mouth, and one unforgettable afternoon in February, her gorgeous breasts. And as the weeks and months passed, he perfected his own techniques. They talked about doing more, but he distracted her with his fingers and tongue until she became as incoherent as he always was.

He didn't tell her, but he wanted more for their first time. At night, as he lay in his own bed staring at the ceiling, he still missed having her in his arms as he slept. For the first several years of his life, her bed was his refuge. It was the place he felt safest, warmest, and most loved. He missed staring at her peaceful face in the moments before he drifted off. He missed seeing her in his dreams while his body was pressed against hers. He missed that the first thing he would see when he opened his eyes was his favorite person in the world. He still felt a little bit wrong every time he woke alone in the morning. So he wanted to sleep with her, literally sleep with her, almost as much as he wanted to have sex with her. But more specifically, the first time he made love to her, he wanted to be able to fall asleep cradled against her afterward. He didn't want to ruin the experience by having to let her go right away.

He was such a sap.

X-x-x-x-X

Bobby said he was whipped. Johnny called him Leah's love slave. He called them jealous. When Rachel started talking to him again (without ever looking Johnny's way), she said her sister was spot on when she dubbed him an idiot savant about Leah. He embraced it. He declared himself a fool for his girl.

A month after Valentine's day he brought her flowers. For the holiday he had given her flowers, chocolate, and a heart shaped locket containing of a picture of them when they were four years old. But Grandma said that flowers shouldn't only be for special occasions. After all, Leah should be just as special to him on a Friday in March as she was on February 14. So he showed up at her house unexpectedly with a dozen red roses. He was fairly certain that those particular flowers were cliches, and he was also sure that wouldn't bother her in the least.

He was right. She loved them, and she was totally surprised because he had told her that he was going to see a movie with the guys that evening. She said she would be busy with Emily anyway, so it would be good timing. He totally forgot Emily would be there until he saw her over Leah's shoulder staring at them with a frown that she was failing to hide. He didn't think much about the frown while Leah hugged him fiercely, but when he turned to kiss her, she only gave him a little peck on the lips and pulled away. Apparently Emily had just broken up with Mark, with whom she had briefly reconciled.

Leah later explained that it made Emily feel bad to see the two of them so in love while she worried she might never find "her own Sam". So Leah asked him not to be quite so physically affectionate around Emily because it made her feel bad, and he reluctantly agreed. It became more difficult not to resent Emily after that, because not only was her very presence limiting his alone-time with Leah (she always spent more time in La Push when she didn't have a boyfriend), but she also hampered him from demonstrating to Leah how he felt about her since he couldn't figure out how to tell her.

But Leah loved Emily, and he would put up with the other girl for her sake. Plus he knew that Emily wasn't really so bad. There was nothing wrong with her, actually, other than the fact that despite knowing each other for years now, she was still just as shy around him as he was around her. He knew this was as much his fault as it was hers. Maybe she picked up on his resentment of her and was just reflecting it back. Or perhaps she resented him for taking her best friend away from her. Really, who could blame her for wanting more time with Leah?

So the next time he knew she was in town, he bought a single yellow rose for Emily along with the bouquet of gerbera daisies he got for Leah. She hadn't minded the clichéd roses whatsoever, but the bright, bold colors of the daisies reminded him of his LeeLee, and he told her so when he gave them to her. The smile she gave him in return was beautiful, but her face positively lit up with joy when he handed the rose to Emily, whose jaw dropped open in pure shock. He mumbled that the florist had explained that it was a symbol of friendship, but he wasn't sure she heard him. He followed Leah into the kitchen, where she was getting a vase for the flowers. He thought Emily wasn't watching them from the next room, so he proceeded to hoist LeeLee onto the counter and kiss her silly.

X-x-x-x-X

He didn't see Emily again until Leah's birthday party. Harry and Sue gifted her with a spa day at the resort, inviting Emily as well as all the girls in her class (which sounded large but only amounted to eight girls in total). Sam obviously had no place at that party, but he and the rest of the boys (minus Austin and Roy, who were unsurprisingly absent) piled into their house for the party afterward. He wasn't sure if the facial and massage she had been given had anything to do with it, but Leah looked even prettier than usual.

Sam couldn't figure out how to get a few minutes alone with her. He had no illusions that he would be able to sneak her off long enough to give her the kind of gift she gave him on his birthday, but he wanted her to unwrap his present without onlookers. But Emily was stuck to her side the entire time. She also knew the twins from spending so much time with Leah, but she wasn't comfortable enough with them or anyone else to break away from her cousin.

He finally sent Bobby in to distract her. Bobby wasn't exactly a ladies' man, but that was probably a good thing. He did have an amazing ability to talk endlessly about movies, though, so he mentioned that Emily and Leah had recently gone to the movies together, and Bobby immediately took over. He took Leah's hand and drew her into Harry's study (he didn't want her parents to think he was trying to seduce their daughter with them looking on, so he didn't take her to her bedroom and he made sure to leave the door open). Then he handed her the package. His mother made him wrap it in real wrapping paper and a bow instead of the newsprint he originally planned to use, and he realized it was good advice when she grinned as she ripped the paper away.

But his heart melted at her soft and joyful expression when she pulled out the little book he had made. He couldn't claim any particular aptitude at leatherwork, but he had done a passable job on the project in shop class. He had embossed the cover with a patterned heart between his name and hers. She ran her fingers over the marks and asked quietly if he had made it himself, and she threw her arms around his neck when he said he had. He laughed and told her she hadn't even opened it yet.

The entire thing was dedicated to the two of them, because he had been inspired at her reaction to the locket containing their childhood pictures. The first page contained a picture of a squalling infant Sam. He captioned it, "This is how I felt until…" And on the very next page, the two of them sharing a bassinet. She was two months old, he was eight months. He lay on his side staring at her as she slept. The page read, "I met you". And so it went. He included pictures of them finger painting together, building towers of blocks, running together on the beach, bare bottomed and perhaps two years old, sprinting away from their harried mothers.

"Apparently I had seen you naked before. I never thought I could forget the sight of your body, but I must have."

"It looked different back then," she giggled.

"You've changed a bit since then."

She snickered and eyed his crotch. "So have you."

There were photos of the two of them climbing the ladder to her treehouse, having tea with Snappy and Mr. Pickles, and crawling over the play structure at the park. Allison was in several, Seth in close to a dozen, and there was a shot of LeeLee making waffles with Grandma Uley. He even added a slightly embarrassing picture of himself staring at her with a slack jaw and glassy eyes while he walked behind her on the beach, blatantly staring at her ass. She was wearing her long-outgrown baby blue bikini that he still missed. He found a picture of them jumping off the cliff hand in hand, a posed picture with their surfboards and huge grins, and a candid she hadn't known existed in which he was kissing her cheek while they sat on a log at a tribal bonfire. He filled three dozen pages with their shared story, but more than half the book was blank. She actually teared up a little when she realized it.

With shining eyes, she looked up at him and asked, "It's for the rest, isn't it?"

"We'll still need a lot more blank books, though." He smiled at her. "That one's..."

"Not nearly big enough," she finished. She kissed him, and her lips were salty from her happy tears. "Thank you. I love it."

"I'm glad."

"I love you, Sammy."

"I do too, LeeLee. I do too."

All the girls thought it was one of the most romantic things they had ever seen, and the boys thought Sam's bare bottom was the funniest. He was happy to endure the teasing because Leah was so happy.

X-x-x-x-X

Soon summer was upon them again, Sam's favorite time of year. He was obviously a big fan of bikini season and going cliff diving and surfing with Leah. But Emily was visiting again, this time for a solid month, so they didn't get much time alone. It would have bothered him more if he hadn't been so busy. He spent as much time working on his summer construction and landscaping jobs as he did in school and doing homework, so it wasn't as if he actually had more time on his hands. But working felt purposeful to him. While he was perfectly good at his schoolwork, better than good if he was honest, he never got the same satisfaction from turning in an assignment as he did from looking at a finished roof whose shingles he had laid. And he had goals, dreams of earning enough to buy a ring for Leah, go to college, and take care of her. Intellectually he knew that school helped him toward those goals, but earning money felt much more concrete.

By June he actually had enough cash to buy an old F-150. The owner had noticed a grinding in the transmission, and the clutch had started slipping. Rather than dealing with the costly replacement of the transmission, he decided to replace the entire thing. Sam brought Harry and little Jacob Black with him to inspect the truck. Jacob discovered a half dozen more problems, including a broken muffler that the owner hadn't disclosed. Harry bargained the price down into Sam's price range. Sam was so nervous about all the necessary repairs that he almost backed out of the deal, but as soon as they were out of earshot of the former owner, Jacob laughed and said that no, the clutch didn't need to be replaced, he only needed to replace the leaky tube and top off the clutch fluid, the grinding would be fixed with a replacement $60 synchro ring, and the muffler was fine, only the exhaust tube needed to be replaced.

So instead of driving his truck back to Leah's house and taking her right out for some private time, which he was positively desperate for, he took Jacob to the auto parts shop and then left it in the Blacks' ramshackle garage.

Three days later he finally took Leah out for a real date all the way in Port Angeles. They ate in a seafood restaurant overlooking the water before walking along the Waterfront Trail with ice cream cones. They headed home when the sun began to set. He kept her hand in his the entire way, but when they drove through Forks, he pulled it to his lips and kissed her knuckles while peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. While stopped at a red light, he unfurled her fingers and kissed the tip of each one, and he saw her squirming in her seat. He tentatively reached over to rest their joined hands in her lap, and when she let go, he slowly inched his fingers down to the the hem of her skirt. She unbuckled her belt and slid toward him on the bench seat, getting as close as she was able. He tried to remember how to steer when his fingers touched the inside of her bare thigh.

"Can we…"

"Yeah," she nodded.

He turned for the remote parking lot at the trailhead leading to Third Beach. It was hardly used, especially at this time in the evening.

But not tonight. There were three other cars parked in the little dirt lot, two of which contained amorous couples. "Oh! I didn't think…" he stammered.

"Right. Let's…"

"Kay."

The second lot was filled with teenagers gathering for a bonfire.

"How 'bout behind the..." she started.

She didn't need to finish her sentence. "Good idea." He headed for the playground. There wouldn't be any families there this late, right? And the playground wasn't next to any open businesses. They passed the tribal police cruiser on the way.

Leah started to giggle. "I think the gods don't want you to get lucky tonight."

He laughed and squeezed her hand. "Nah. You're here with me, so I'm the luckiest guy on earth." They gave up and went back to her house, where Harry and Sue greeted them warmly and told Leah that Emily was coming back the next weekend. He swore under his breath and resigned himself to being a frustrated virgin for a while longer.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to my lovely beta, Babs81410.


	16. Finally

In the end, the truck was unnecessary. On a Tuesday night in July, he awoke in his own bed to the sound of clicking against his window. He blearily opened his eyes and looked at his clock. The glowing red numbers told him it was 12:07. He rolled over and woke the rest of the way up when he saw Leah's grinning face in his window. He slid it open.

"You came to see me!" He was shocked and happy. He had always been the one to crawl into her bedroom, not the other way around. "C'mon in!" He reached out to pull her in, but she shook her head.

"Nuh uh, you come out here! I've got something to show you."

He didn't hesitate for a second. He yanked a pair of shorts over his boxers and grabbed his sneakers from his closet before sliding out the window. She refused to tell him where they were going, but he followed her gladly. They ran through the forest hand in hand. It was awkward keeping a grip on her while they dodged tree limbs and jumped over tangled roots, but he managed it. He wasn't about to let her go.

They were both sweaty and a slightly winded by the time he realized where they were going. They passed charming little cabins and manicured beachfront before halting by a long brick planter filled with a tall hedge. "Wanna go for a dip?"

"Sure!"

He started to pull her toward the open ocean, but she tugged him back. "Not there, silly. We didn't have to come all the way to the resort to swim in the Pacific. It's freezing anyway, and worse at nighttime, you know?"

He had sort of been counting on it. He figured she'd have to cling to him for warmth in the frigid sea. Then he realized what was on the other side of the hedge. "Is it open?"

"Of course not. What fun would that be? They closed it at midnight." She showed him the locked gate, then led him around to the other side and pointed out a little gap between two of the bushes in the hedge. Higher up, the foliage melded into a seamless and neatly trimmed wall, but the opening at the bottom was just big enough to crawl through. The lights were off in the pool, but he could see the surface of the water reflecting the full moon above. She hoisted herself onto the brick wall, then disappeared through the little hole. A few seconds later her hand appeared, beckoning him in.

The pool was elongated and irregularly shaped, with little rounded pockets branching off from the main body that were shaded from the main resort and other parts of the deck by more plants. Grills were set off to one side for barbecuing, and tables and deck chairs lined the sides. They were alone. Leah grinned at him, grabbed a towel from the cabinet by the main entrance, and stripped off her shirt. He immediately started getting hard, and he was completely stiff by the time she wiggled out of her shorts and tossed them on a nearby chair.

He wished for better lighting, but the moonlight showed off her tantalizing curves even in the dark. She wore a brown bikini with a beaded pattern that she liked but he barely noticed. After all, what was under the bikini was prettier than anything she that decorated it. What drove Sam nuts wasn't the pattern, but the little clasp between her breasts. Whenever she wore it, he wanted to flick it open with his finger and let her spill out.

She turned around, temporarily depriving him of the sight of her breasts barely restrained by the little scraps of fabric, but then she bent over, and he stared openly at the little dip in her lower back where it curved out to become her ass. She dove into the water and surfaced a few feet away. "Come on it! It's perfect!"

He tugged off his shirt and shorts and jumped in feet first. He was sure she could see the way he was tenting his boxers, but the little smirk on her face showed him she didn't mind in the least. He cut toward her through the water, but she darted away. She could hold her breath a remarkably long time, and in the dark and without the illumination of underwater lights to guide him, he kept losing track of her as she swam near the bottom of the pool. He would head one way, chasing after her shadow, only to hear her pop up behind him or around a corner with a taunting giggle.

They played like that for a while, laughing and trying to keep quiet so they wouldn't get caught. She would brush against his legs and fling herself away. He would catch her by the waist, but she'd wriggle out of his grasp. She'd let him get close, allowing him the curve of her hip or a fleeting touch to her inner thigh, and then she'd dunk him and be off again.

He finally caught her (or she let him, anyway) and pinned her against the steps. He pushed her down playfully until she was sitting deep enough that her breasts were floating at the surface of the water, the gentle waves they created lapping up and down her skin, touching her in places he wanted to put his lips.

But he started with her smiling mouth. He licked and nipped at her until it was swollen and the taste of chlorine was gone. She wound her arms around him as he lowered her back, sliding an arm behind her to keep her from scraping against the rough concrete. He was in heaven. She was soft and warm and gorgeous and open and all his. The water kept buoying her up and bringing her into even closer contact than either of them intended. He kissed her slowly and softly, then hungrily and deeply, and he never, ever wanted it to end.

He made his way down her neck, finding the little spot under her ear that made her moan. He grinned to himself when she let out a needy little whimper, but shushed her to stay quiet so they wouldn't get caught. Then she wrapped her long legs around him and discovered that he was poking lewdly through the fly in his boxers, hard as a rock, and she teased him by wiggling against him until he groaned. He involuntarily pressed against her, the soft skin of her belly too tempting to resist. He whispered her name and sucked at the flesh of her neck, shifting himself down to keep himself from exploding in the water.

She responded by pushing herself higher. The little noises in the back of her throat told him that she wanted more. He needed no urging to pepper kisses over her breasts when she moved them into his view. He glanced at her to seek permission to tug the fabric aside, but her head was thrown back and she was gasping harshly. He pulled at the lycra until her left breast was bared to him, and he began to devour her nipple.

He was hungry. So hungry. He filled his mouth with her flesh and felt it pebble under his tongue. He suckled and licked and kissed her as she shoved her elbows into the support beneath her and arched into him. Then she began to cup her other breast in her own hand, wanting more stimulation, and he pulled away, letting her pop out of his mouth and hovering over her. One of his favorite fantasies was of watching her touch herself, and this was the closest she had ever come.

She stopped immediately. "Sammy?" She wanted to know why he had stopped. Then she saw him gaping at her hand, and it clicked. "Are you... Do you..."

He nodded furiously, unable to say the word "yes". She licked at her lips nervously and tentatively ran her finger along the edge of the fabric. He knew she was a little bit anxious, but it was the best tease he had ever witnessed. He willed her to move with his mind.

He almost whooped in triumph when she stroked at her hardened nipple through the cup. He watched her, mesmerized, until she moved her hand to the clasp. Then he brushed her hand aside. He wanted to do that, and with a flick of his finger, he popped it open and it fell to her sides.

Damn. Her tits were perfect. He stared at her, not even blinking.

For once, she didn't seem to know what to do. He was frozen, doing nothing but looking. It wasn't as if it was the first time he had seen them, but it felt like it. "Sammy?" she whispered.

He couldn't make himself talk. But he mouthed the word, "Please," and like always, she somehow figured out what he meant. She sat up to free both her arms of supporting her against the steps, and he inched back and out of her way. And there was only one reason he would be moving away from her right now: the view. So she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Then she began to rub at her own breasts, and he wondered if he could stop blinking altogether so he wouldn't miss a fraction of a second of what she was doing. She cupped their weight in her hands, then brushed her thumbs over her pointed nipples, and he moaned her name. Her eyes popped open and she looked at him looking at her, but he couldn't raise his eyes away from what she was doing. He was pretty sure he looked like a slack-jawed idiot, but there was nothing he could do about it. Particuarly when she started rolling her nipples between her fingers.

His hands twitched. He didn't know what to do with them. All at once, he wanted to rip her hands away and replace them with his own, beg her to slide her hand into her bottoms, grab his impossibly hard dick and yank at it until the immense pressure in his balls was released, tear her bikini bottoms off her, plunge his fingers into her body, bury his dick deep into her virgin passage and make her his. He couldn't decide which to do, and he reached for her hip.

Then a door creaked open and they heard footsteps on the path outside the pool. Both of them froze. Leah's eyes widened hugely, and he saw her pulse fluttering rapidly in her neck. His heart was pounding as fast as hers.

The footsteps approached the main gate of the pool. He looked past Leah's head and saw a shadow moving toward them. He was paralyzed. He could visualize what would happen next. The gate would open, the lights would flood on, and not only would they be caught, some pervert would see everything his LeeLee had to offer. She would be on display.

Should he grab her and pull her out? Dive under and try to hold their breath until he left? Could they outrun the guy? Should they leave their clothes behind just to get out? Should they shove him into the pool and sprint through the open gate? But chances were that they'd probably know him. They knew everyone on the reservation, and everyone knew them. Even if they got away, their parents would be notified if they were seen.

But before he reached the gate, the clerk turned and followed the path leading to the cabins. Sam and Leah let out shaky sighs of relief. She hastily refastened her top, and while the staffer was occupied elsewhere, they grabbed the towels and their clothes. As she quickly tried to dry herself enough to get her clothes back on, though, they heard more voices coming back toward them. He tugged her into one of the little alcoves off to the side, and she pressed herself into his chest, clinging to him as they listened.

The sound of rolling luggage provided a constant cover over their breathing, which sounded loud in their own ears. An irritated female voice was complaining, "Well, we've paid enough for real climate control. It's much too hot to go without air conditioning."

The clerk tried to placate her. "I'm so sorry about that, Mrs. Richardson. The room isn't as luxurious as the cabin, but the air conditioning definitely works."

"It's not really the same, is it? And it's not what we paid for."

"Obviously we will refund you tonight's rate. And we can have it fixed tomorrow. The maintenance man will be here at eight. Perhaps I can toss in free spa services to help make up for it. By tomorrow night hopefully we can get you back to number 7. I'd give you another cabin tonight, but they're all occupied. Those units fill up fast."

Another voice added, "That sounds nice, doesn't it honey? I know you like massages."

The voices headed back to the main building. "You could have a deep tissue massage, or the hot rocks massage gets rave reviews. And do you folks like to golf?" They heard a distinct tap amongst the sound of rolling luggage and footsteps, and then their potential audience was gone.

Sam and Leah let out matching sighs of relief. When they pulled apart, they looked at one another and instantly knew their next stop. They made their way out of the hole in the hedge, and she pointed toward the door the couple had entered. They carefully picked their way around, and then they saw it. A keycard lay on the sidewalk. They had heard it fall to the ground.

"You wanna?" she asked with a wicked grin.

"What do you think?"

It was nicer than he had hoped for. A sitting room was in the front, and there was a kitchenette to the side. An empty bottle of wine sat on the counter, and two mostly empty glasses were on the coffee table by the couch. A fireplace was set in the wall between the sitting room and the bedroom, and the bedroom had a picture window overlooking the Pacific. They didn't turn the lights on, not wanting to alert anyone to their presence, but Leah spotted candles on the mantle above the fireplace and lit one. She closed the curtains and carried it into the bathroom. It was the most luxurious one either of them had ever seen. A jacuzzi tub sat next to a frameless glass shower with a seat in the corner, and the entire room was done in white tile and marble. "I think I should wash all the chlorine off. I smell like chemicals," she whispered. The light from the candle showed a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

He gulped. "Good idea."

He didn't ask what they were doing, and she didn't offer. But they both knew what was going to happen. He took the candle from her and set it on the vanity behind him, and the mirrors on the adjacent walls reflected the light around the room. He saw her reaching into the shower to turn it on, and while it warmed up, she slowly removed her clothes and her wet bikini.

She was beautiful, and she was all his.

She stepped into the warm, running water, turning her face into the spray, and the candle reflected the droplets coursing down her lovely body. He wanted to be the water. Then she brushed it from her eyes and held her hand out to him.

His paralysis turned into a pressing need to get to her. He flung off his shirt, and it landed in the jacuzzi. His wet boxers stuck to his shorts, and they both tangled around his ankles. He tripped and nearly went careening into the edge of the sink, but caught himself with his flailing arms purely by chance.

"Smooth," she snickered. It made her breasts jiggle, so his embarrassment was overshadowed by lust. They laughed at him together until he joined her in the shower, and then their giggling turned into moans. He kissed her again and again, and then he tried to figure out what to do next, because there were probably some steps between getting naked and having sex.

He started with the shower's usual purpose. He took the little bottle of shampoo off the shelf and massaged her scalp while she grinned up at him. He piled suds on the top of her head and then blew them onto the back wall with a puff of his breath before helping her rinse them out. He gripped her hips and kissed her hard while he tried to figure out the mechanics of having sex in the shower. The best thing he could think of was bend her over the little seat built into the back wall and take her from behind, but he knew that wasn't romantic enough for their first time. While he mentally flipped through all the positions he knew from the porn he had watched, he took down the soap and decided to run his hands all over her tempting body while he figured out what to do. He discovered that she had shaved absolutely everywhere, which she had never previously done, and he was absolutely thrilled at the thought that maybe she had planned it all. He blurted out the question before he could stop himself, his fingers tentatively exploring her smooth lips. "Did you plan all this?"

She grinned up at him and cocked a brow. "Are you asking me if I broke the air conditioning unit to this cabin?"

"Oh, jeez, of course not. But did you think maybe..."

She tipped her head down, looking at his chest, but nodded. Very quietly she answered, "I thought... I didn't know. Maybe? But this is..."

He was the luckiest guy on earth. "This is perfect. You're perfect," he whispered. She was still looking at his chest, so he tipped her chin up and kissed her until they both forgot what they were talking about, and then his hands resumed their course over her body.

The soap made her even smoother and more touchable than she normally was, which he had thought was impossible. He greedily palmed her breasts, her waist, and her bottom with his slippery hands. He kissed a path down wherever he had just rinsed, continually getting distracted from his attempt to determine how to make love to her by the way her waist curved into her hip, or a reflection of the candlelight off her bronze skin, or a droplet of water falling off her nipple.

Then she grabbed the little bottle of bodywash and started to lather his skin, and he totally forgot that he was trying to plot out exactly how to lose their virginity.

Her hands on him felt amazing. He was pretty sure he'd never be able to take another shower without remembering this and jacking off, either. She turned him around and soaped every inch of his back, finding sensitive spots he had no idea existed. She reached around to his front and traced her fingers along his wiry muscles, making little circles and slowly moving toward where he really wanted her to go. But after she finished washing his stomach, instead of dropping her hand around his stiff length, she knelt down and washed his buttocks, legs and feet. She let her hands brush against his balls, causing him to shudder, but that was all. He tried to turn around to return the favor, desperate to get his hands on her body, but she stopped him with her hands on his hips. "You're not clean yet," she whispered, and he heard her pouring a little more soap into her palm. He grunted in frustration. He needed to touch her. He had to get inside her. He needed it like he had never needed anything.

And then she reached around and grasped him in her right fist. He couldn't stop himself from bucking his hips forward and fucking her hand. She pressed herself against his back, and the heat of her body and the steamy little room made him dizzy. He embarrassed himself when he heard a broken moan echoing in the room, wishing he sounded like he had some semblance of control over himself. But her only response was to reach her other arm around and cover more of his length with her other soapy hand. She tightened her two-fisted grip on him and whispered, "Feel good, Sammy?"

All he could figure out how to say was her name. He managed to hold himself still so she could pump him without his sloppy movements getting in her way. How was it that this felt so much better when she did it? It didn't make any intuitive sense. His hands were bigger than hers, and he always knew how tightly to hold himself. But she always felt amazing. And she certainly looked better. He looked down, and the reflected candle threw just enough light that he could see what her fingers looked like on his body. The combination of sight and touch put him right on the edge.

But he didn't want to spill himself all over the floor of this shower. He wanted to come inside of her. She shifted one hand down to roll his balls in her palm, and he had to reach out for the wall to keep from falling. He was close. So close. He need to stop her. "LeeLee... I'm... I don't want to..."

From his swaying, she sensed that he was barely hanging on. She let him go and he turned to face her, and before she could say anything, he crushed her to him with a kiss.

When they finally parted to breathe, she whispered, "I know, Sammy. But I want you here." She touched her lower lip with a slender finger, and her big eyes showed him that she wasn't trying to manipulate him with her seductive behavior. It was just the unvarnished truth. He couldn't possibly resist her tempting offer. "I think you'll still..."

He cut her off with another kiss. She didn't need to finish the sentence. He was so aroused that they both knew he wouldn't need any recovery time for a second round. And maybe this way he wouldn't explode the very second his straining tip touched her pussy.

She dropped down, and the very sight of her naked and dripping and on her knees was one he would never forget. He pushed the showerhead aside so she wouldn't drown, and then her mouth was on him. She kissed her way from the base of his shaft to the head, and then she ran her tongue along the edge. She already knew where he was most sensitive, so she spent extra attention on those spots. She held him fast with one hand, and with the other she cupped his balls. He throbbed and ached and had to hold onto the walls of the shower to stay upright.

Then she peeked up at him through her wet lashes and sucked him into her mouth. God damn. He heard himself muttering about how beautiful she was. She took him as deep as she could go without triggering her gag reflex, and she used her hands to stimulate everything she couldn't reach with her lips and tongue. Amongst the intense sensations, he found himself wondering what he'd done to deserve this. She was so ridiculously good at what she was doing. She wanted to please him so badly, and she paid close attention to every one of his reactions and adjusted to them. She knew him nearly as well as he knew himself, and in this, she actually knew him better. She used it to full advantage.

Over the sound of the running shower, he heard her muffled moans. Like everything she set her mind to, she tended to him with enthusiasm and gusto, and the fact that he knew she loved what she was doing made her even sexier than she was to begin with. She alternated between deep sucking, undulating her hot tongue against his shaft, and bobbing her head in time with her hand. Time and time again she brought him to the brink, but every time she felt his balls tightening up in preparation for his imminent explosion, she backed off to light, teasing kisses that drove him mad. And when she was sure he wouldn't come, she took him in as deep as she could go. She hummed and groaned like he was the best thing she had ever tasted, like she was as hungry for him as he was for her, and he felt the vibrations around the sensitive head of his dick.

When he couldn't take it any more, he pulled his right hand from the shower wall and threaded it through her hair. She knew what that meant, looking up at him once more. She moaned wantonly and dipped her head forward, tightening her grip with both hands, and she suckled deeply. He struggled to keep his eyes open, because she was his greatest fantasy come to life. He shuddered and shot hot liquid ropes down her throat.

Usually she kept her mouth on him, gently licking, until he was soft. This time he was too needy, even after what she had done for him. He had to give her the bliss she had just granted him. He pulled her to her feet, kissed her until he had licked every trace of himself off her lips, and pushed her onto the little seat set into the corner of the shower. He knelt between her legs, spread her knees apart with his hands, tugged her to the edge, and went straight for the kill.

He knew from experience that she became incredibly aroused from going down on him (and he also knew from hearing other guys' gossip that it wasn't true for many girls, so he added that to the very long list of things that made him the luckiest guy on earth), and sure enough she was soaking, and not just from the shower. Her hands were already tight in his hair, a sure sign that she was close. He didn't torture her. Other times, he might have teased her by plucking at her nipples, kissing his way up and down her thighs, teasing her opening with his fingers. This time she had been aching ever since their aborted embrace in the pool. Besides, he also knew that she could orgasm over and over, depending on what he did. Once he got her going, she was very responsive. He drew her thighs over his shoulders, parted her with his thumbs, and he descended on her clitoris.

She immediately began to wail. The sound set off something deep in his gut. He had to make her as crazy and she made him, and he was desperate to do it as quickly as possible. He licked on either side of her clit, and her wail changed to a whimper. He moved down to plunge into her entrance, and he fucked her as best he could with his tongue. He could hardly wait to do the same thing with his cock, which had been screaming at him to find its way home, here with her, for months, for years even. She squirmed and panted and cried out his name, and then she started to beg. He didn't want her to suffer, not at all, so he returned to her clitoris and kissed it gently before flicking his tongue rapidly over the stiff nub. He snaked his arms behind her to pull her as close as possible, and her legs stiffened around his ears. He'd probably suffocate, but he'd die in the happiest place on earth, and he'd die happy.

Except he'd still be a virgin, technically. He tipped his head enough that he could breathe, and he sucked her clit into his mouth. She came apart around him, bucking her hips uncontrollably, shaking from head to toe, and crying out what was probably supposed to be his name.

He felt like a god.

Before she came down from her high, he slipped a finger into her. He had never really lost his erection, which was now harder than it had ever been. He was more than ready, but she wasn't. Not quite. Not if he wanted it to be as good as it could possibly be. Because she was tight. So fucking tight on his finger. He had never tried to put more than two inside her. He certainly didn't need to in order to make her orgasm all over his hand. But tonight he knew he would hurt her, and he figured that at the very least, he could try to stretch her out a little.

She was still spasming and clenching when he curled his finger into her g-spot. Her first orgasm rolled directly into her second, and he sat back to watch it. She was so gorgeous. She had let go of his hair and was gripping the edge of the seat, her arms stiff, her body arched, her breasts thrust forward with her head thrown back. He didn't think there could possibly be a sight more arousing than Leah Clearwater coming because of him. He added a second finger, and she widened her legs and pushed herself down against his hand. "Fuck, LeeLee."

"Sa-am!" She could barely speak, but she had to say his name. Her hips twisted against him. "Sam!"

He didn't recognize his own voice when he told her, "You're so fucking beautiful." He sounded guttural and harsh. He kept stroking her from the inside, not thrusting his fingers but gently pressing them against her rhythmically in the way he had learned could extend her pleasure without overstimulating her. "I'm gonna..."

"Yeah. Yeah," she panted. She nodded helplessly, finally regaining enough awareness to look back down at him, and he added a third finger. Shit. He could barely work it in despite how wet she was. She winced and stiffened, and he started to remove his hand instinctively. "No, don't stop," she said.

But he felt a different kind of warmth against his fingers, and he saw a dark spot appear on the marble under her. He stilled his movements. "But you're... you're..."

"I know. Just... please..." For once she was as incoherent as he. "I want you. I want this."

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He started to thumb her clitoris gently, wanting to give her some pleasure to counter the pain.

"Oh! Oh... oh... oooooh..." Her head fell back again, and he wasn't sure if it was working or not. Her orgasm had ended when the pain began. She was insanely tight, but she wasn't clenching on his fingers anymore. So he twisted his hand to make room for his tongue, and he began to lap at her clitoris again. "Sammy! Oh god, Sam!"

She started to roll her hips into his face, and he was sure he had done a good thing. He sped his tongue against her, licking in circles for a few seconds before drawing the flat of his tongue against it. After a minute of that, he started to feel telltale spasms around his fingers. He smiled against her, and he gently began to press them in deeper. He slowly stretched her out as he worked her clitoris, trying to ignore the throbbing of his dick, which wanted nothing more than to feel her amazing heat sheathing him.

Soon he had three fingers buried as deep as possible, and she was squirming around him. But she was trying to get him even deeper, not push him away. He pursed his lips and kissed her again and again. In between kisses he started to thrust his fingers, and she moaned and gasped alternately in a way he had never heard before. He didn't know what it meant. "Does it hurt, LeeLee? Am I hurting you?"

"No... Ugh... Yes..." He halted abruptly. "No! Don't stop... Mmmm... Both. It hurts but please don't stop." He kept watching her as he carefully resumed thrusting his fingers. The tight grip of her walls wasn't rhythmic enough to be another orgasm, but she seemed close. "I... I... Sammy... Sam..." He knew she wasn't just chanting his name. She wanted his attention. He was ridiculously proud of reducing her eloquence to this broken rambling. She was trembling and shaking, and he knew that if it weren't for the leg she still had thrown over his shoulder, she would have slipped off the shelf.

He couldn't stop himself from smirking as he found the spot inside her that made her turn to jelly. He began to massage it on each stroke, and she started to hum in the back of her throat. "Do you like that?" He was afraid she was still hurting, and he had to ask if she felt good.

"Y-Yeah," she panted.

He wanted to send her over the edge, so he thumbed her clitoris again, and it was enough. She was coming apart again on his hand. She cried out and stiffened, and her walls locked down on his fingers.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had to be inside her. The second she opened her eyes, he removed his hand and rose up on his knees and tried to line up at her entrance. But she was slippery, and the water started to run cold behind him. She squealed when it hit her skin, and she slid around on the seat when he slipped on the wet marble beneath him while trying to turn off the water, and they laughed as realized they were as likely to break bones as they were to finally have sex.

They didn't bother to dry off. Neither of them could wait that long. Besides, the room really was warm, as the air conditioning was indeed broken, just as the Richardsons had complained. He grabbed the candle on the way out of the bathroom, because he wanted to be able to see her. She was so gorgeous that it hurt him, it literally hurt him. His cocked ached to finally be inside her the way he had been dreaming about for years.

He set it on the nightstand while she turned back the covers. The couple inhabiting the room had not apparently made it to the bed before they decided they wanted a different room. As much as he itched to touch her, he couldn't resist the sight of her naked, still dripping, and bent over the king sized bed. He could see her pussy waiting for him. He wanted to take a picture, although part of him was still nervous about being able to fit inside her. He knew it must be possible, but the physics still seemed improbable at best, because he was bigger than his three fingers. Then she climbed up and turned toward him, extending her hand. It was the best invitation he had ever gotten.

There was no way to resist, and no reason to. They fell back onto the bed together, coming together like magnets. He kissed her passionately as her slim, toned legs wrapped around his. He gripped her tightly to him as he lost himself in the taste of her mouth. She was sweet and soft and warm. But her skin was hot and wet, and when she tilted her hips up, he felt that she was even hotter and wetter there. They were ready.

And there was no one else he wanted here with him. No one else he wanted to give himself to completely. There couldn't be. Other girls might be pretty, but only she was this beautiful. Other girls might be willing, but he only wanted her. Other girls might be seductive, but only she knew exactly how to touch him. Other girls were friendly, but only she knew him so intimately. Other girls might be kind, but no one was as generous with themselves as she was. Other girls might even care about him. But only she could love him this perfectly. And he could never love anyone the way he loved her.

He pulled back to look at her, and she opened her eyes and nodded at him wordlessly. He couldn't help himself. He knew she wanted him to enter her, finally enter her, but he had to take one more look. He raked his eyes over her beautiful form. She was open beneath him. Her skin glistened, her copper color just a shade lighter than his. Her breasts were full, perfect teardrops topped with hard, tempting brown nipples that he loved to draw into his mouth, and they were trembling. Her stomach was flat and smooth, her navel a sexy little dip in the middle. Her waist was narrow and small and gave way dramatically to curved hips. And she was bare now, her sex naked, slick, and ready for him. He reached down, and so did she, and together they guided him into her body.

It was perfect. There was no other way to describe it. Slowly, so slowly, he inched forward. She gasped as he stretched her. She was tight to the point of resistance, and he hesitated. Despite his preparations, she was still so small, and he was big, and there was nothing for it. But she sank her nails into his buttocks and urged him forward. Then the head of his cock was fully inside her, and he stopped just to savor the sensation. He kissed her again because he couldn't stand to hurt her, but she kept urging him on.

It was unbelievable. It was better than he had ever imagined, partly due to the fact that every nerve ending in his body was firing off with signals of sheer bliss, but mostly because this was LeeLee, his LeeLee, underneath him and surrounding him.

"Sammy," she whimpered, and he couldn't resist the pleading tone any longer. In one swift move, he bottomed out inside of her, and together they wailed. He heard the pain in her voice, but her legs were locked firmly around him, and there was nowhere for him to go. So he stayed. He stayed inside of her, and he never wanted to leave, because it was simply the best thing he had ever experienced. But for her he knew it was not the absolute perfection it was for him. He watched tears of pain trickle from the corners of her eyes and he kissed them away. He whispered her name over and over, because no other word held so much meaning, and she understood. He held himself still inside of her and resisted the mounting urge to thrust. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her chin, and her neck, and he looked at her looking at him.

"I love you so much," she whimpered.

All he could do was groan her name again. He pushed back far enough to look at her more fully, to memorize how insanely beautiful she was this way, cradling him. The movement shifted him so that his public bone rubbed against her clitoris, and she gasped in pleasured surprise. He cursed as he felt her clench around him, becoming even tighter than she already was. He slid his hand between them and began to rub her clitoris. But it was clumsy with his hand wedged between them, so he sat back on his heels and pulled her bottom onto his thighs, involuntarily thrusting out and into her again. She gasped and her eyes grew even wider, but she kept her legs locked firmly around him.

When he was seated fully in her again, he realized what a good idea it had been to sit back. He could see all of her this way, the most gorgeous creature on earth wrapped around his cock, he could finger her clitoris this way, and he wouldn't pump into her until she was ready.

And he had never been so hard. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to pound her into the mattress. But more than that, he wanted her to feel good. He had learned from ample practice that touching her was best with lubrication, so he tenderly stroked his fingers against her cheek, and then he found her full bottom lip. "Lick it," he murmured.

Her breath caught, and she slowly parted her lips. He inserted his thumb, and she got the idea. She circled the tip with her tongue, the same way she did when she was sucking on his cock, pulling at him seductively until he took his thumb from her mouth and started rubbing her sensitive nub. He touched her gently, knowing she was starting to feel good by the way she shuddered against him. Her trembling body felt amazing all around him. So he sat there, keeping his hips as still as possible, and he worked her clitoris with his hand. His other hand felt useless, so he decided to try stimulating her further. He placed his open palm over her breast. She cried out as her eyes fell shut, so he began to tug at her nipple with his fingertips.

Leah started to squirm. She ran one hand through her hair, gripping it tightly, and she fisted the sheets with the other. She alternately panted harshly or cooed meaningless, pleased sounds. She was so goddamn sexy. He couldn't figure out where to look. She was frowning and her eyes were squeezed shut, but it was obvious that her pain was either merging with or turning into pleasure. She kept licking her lips as her mouth went dry from her increasingly loud gasps, or biting the bottom one. Her breasts were as beautiful as ever, and he always loved looking at his own hands on them. The subtle muscles in her stomach twitched as she squirmed. He was infinitely glad that she had had the foresight to get him off in the shower; otherwise there was no way he would have lasted for more than a few seconds inside her. Because no matter where else he tried to look, his eyes kept returning to his thumb on her clitoris right above the spot where he disappeared inside her.

Fuck. He was inside her. His dick was nestled inside her pretty, swollen, bare pussy. It was awe inspiring. It was intense. It was unbelievable. It was amazing. It was truly fucking awesome.

"Saaam," she breathed and squirmed on him some more, causing him to buck a little. "Oooh!"

"Yeah?" She arched her back and rolled her hips around him. Fucking hell. He released her breast and grabbed onto her hip. "Shit, LeeLee. I-I-I can't stay..." She did it again and he shuddered inside her. Damn it! He stopped rubbing her clitoris and splayed his fingers over her belly. "I can't stay in control when you do that!"

"Then don't. Let go!" His heart fell into his stomach. Oh no. He thought she was really starting to enjoy herself. He wanted to cry, but he started to pull out. She let out a shaky sigh at his movement. "Yeah. That's... Now just..." And instead of pushing herself off his thighs and letting him slide out of her, she dug her heels into her back and pulled herself fully onto him. "Oh god!"

Shit! The friction was amazing. But what was she doing? She told him not to keep going. He started to pull out again, but she reached up to press her hands against the headboard and pushed herself back down onto him with the hottest moan he had ever heard. "Ahh! Fuck! LeeLee! Baby, what are you doing?"

Her eyes popped open and she looked up at him incredulously. "What do you mean? What does it look like?"

He would have busted out laughing if he wasn't so confused and aroused. He tightened his grip on her hips to keep her from moving again, because she was starting to circle her hips around him in a way that was making it impossible for him to hold still. "You told me not to keep going. To let go of you," he protested.

She blinked a few times and then broke out into a huge grin. "Not to let go of me, Sammy, to let yourself go," she explained.

"You like this?" he asked. He had to be certain.

She squirmed around him some more, and he had to struggle to keep his eyes and ears open so he could be sure of her response. His body was screaming at him to rut at her like an animal, but he couldn't stand hurting her. She started to pout, and it was irresistible. "Yeah, it's soooo good. It hurts but I need more." He moved his thumb back down to press on her clitoris, and she bucked again, causing shockwaves to radiate up his spine. "Ooohh..."

She was so hot. Now that his fear of hurting her had dissipated, he realized just how close he was to the edge. She was just too much, and she was so reactive to him.

Finally she begged. She sounded like she was about to cry. "Move, please. Sammy, please. Make me come!"

Her plea shut down his brain and prompted pure instinct to take over. Sam descended on her. He slid his hands under her knees and bent her back, opening her to his assault and pressing his fists into the mattress at her sides, and he started to thrust. Leah's begging turned into whimpers, each one broken with hitching gasps of breath while he pulled back, then into cries as he snapped forward and plunged himself back into her depths. He pounded into her, faster and faster. He started to slip, so he rocked back on his heels and changed his angle for balance, and on the next thrust, he struck something inside her. He would have known it just from the spasming of her pussy around his cock, but her nails digging into his forearms and the throaty volume of her cries confirmed it.

He was making her come. He could hardly believe it was happening. He was inside his precious girl, his LeeLee, his best friend, his beautiful fantasy, and he was making her come. The realization set him aflame. She set him on fire with her words, her body, and her love. He lowered her legs so that he could wrap his arms around her, but he didn't stop pumping. His fuse was lit, and he couldn't stop it if he tried. He was so close. He was burning. He snaked his right arm under her waist and his left along her back to grasp her shoulder, and he buried himself inside her.

The fuse reached its end, and fireworks exploded from his body into hers, sending flames rocketing between them. He split into a thousand pieces, and when the fragments came together and coalesced, he heard her panting into his ear, "I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you."

He fell asleep cradled within her.

X-x-x-x-X

He woke up to the sound of hissing, and he pried his eyes open when Leah pulled away from his embrace. She sat up in the unfamiliar bed. It was still dark out, but the sky was turning from black to a shade of dark blue. He knew without a doubt what had happened the night before, but the very end was fuzzy at best.

"LeeLee?" he croaked.

She stopped moving and looked at him over her shoulder. Her naked back was tantalizing. "Morning, Sammy."

He reached out to touch her skin. He loved waking up next to her, and he didn't want her to go anywhere. He was almost as happy about sleeping with her in his arms as he was that they had finally made love. He wanted every day to begin like this one: next to a nude Leah. "Stay. I want you to stay."

Her mouth quirked up. "You want me to wet this nice bed?"

He pouted. "Promise you'll come right back?"

"Promise," she grinned. But her smile immediately turned into a grimace when she got up to walk to the bathroom.

He propped himself up. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Really gotta pee." But she shuffled to the bathroom, and after the door closed, he heard a faint, "Ah!"

When she climbed back into bed, he gently pulled her toward him, and she rested her head in the crook of his neck. He kissed the top of her head. "You okay?"

"Mmm..." She shrugged, so he knew she wasn't. His heart began to sink.

Did she regret it? Did she think they'd made a mistake? Did she hoped they had waited? Was he really bad and he just didn't know it? He wasn't sure he could stand the answer, but he asked anyway. "What is it? Was it not..."

Her head popped up and she shook it vigorously. "It was wonderful. It was perfect." He could tell that she wasn't exaggerating to protect his feelings.

He sighed in relief. Thank god. Because he really wanted to do it again. If they were quick they could probably even make it back before their parents noticed they were gone. "Oh good. It was perfect for me, too. Better than perfect. You were amazing."

She smiled at him. "You too." Then a dimple appeared in her left cheek, and a little crinkle at the corners of her eyes. "Except for one thing."

Shit. What was it? What had he done? "I'm sorry. Tell me?"

"You totally squished me after. Like, I nearly suffocated." She was grinning, so she wasn't mad at all.

"Oops," was all he had to offer. He had completely passed out on top of her, hadn't he? Damn. He had fallen asleep while he was still inside her. The latter thought made him throb. "But you're alive now, right? So that's good."

"I barely escaped. I can't believe you didn't wake up with the way I crawled out from under you."

"You were sneaky when you escaped my trap. I guess your mad ninja skills paid off."

"You were such a lump, I thought maybe you'd died."

He laughed. "But what a way to go."

She settled back onto his shoulder and he tightened his arm around her waist. She snuggled closer, so he took the opportunity to trace up and down her spine. He knew where she was sensitive. He started to touch her the way she liked him to. She hummed in satisfaction, and he moved his hand down to cup her bottom. She threw her leg over his hips, right on top of his morning wood. But she apparently hadn't noticed it there until she landed on it, because she let out a startled, "Oh!"

He grinned. "You're naked and we're alone. What did you expect?" He moved to stroke her inner thigh, inching higher and higher.

She buried her face in his neck. "Mm..ee..or."

"I... what?"

She separated just long enough to stammer, "I'mreallysoreI'msorry," and then she hid her face again. He took his hand off her ass.

"No, don't be sorry. I'm sorry, LeeLee." Because he genuinely was. Both for her sake, and because they couldn't have sex again right away.

"You're just so big," she mumbled. Then he wasn't quite so sorry anymore.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410, who takes all credit for the chapter title.


	17. Blessing

A/N: To the astute readers who noticed that Sam and Leah didn't use barrier protection in the last chapter: they absolutely should have; agreed. However, Sue took Leah to get on the depo provera birth control shot in chapter 13, so they aren't going to get pregnant.

X-x-x-x-X

The rest of the summer was a heady blur. He saw his friends, went surfing when he could, and spent every possible second with his LeeLee. She was as good on her board as he was, and she was more daring than most of the guys. They even took a short trip a couple hours south to Westport to participate in a surfing competition. Neither humiliated themselves, although neither placed, either. Their old habit of jogging together provided a good cover for more intimate activities, although she refused to fool around in the forest after a few twigs ventured into places they had no business going. But they discovered a cave in the less frequented Third Beach, and they even started to revisit her old tree house if they couldn't find somewhere more private to go. And only two weeks after their visit to the cabin, they christened his new truck for the first time. He decided it was the best purchase he ever made. He had to work hard to replenish his depleted savings. But Marty gave him a raise, and he was confident that by next summer's end, he would have enough money for a ring. He just didn't know how to buy one or when to give it to her.

Junior year was easier then sophomore, if only because Grandma was doing much better. He was able to rejoin the soccer league in the fall, while Leah started volunteering at the local nursing home and expanded her after-school tutoring beyond just Collin. She was becoming more interested in being a teacher, although Sue was still trying to convince her to teach at the University level rather than primary or secondary school. Harry said she should just do whatever made her happy. Sue retorted that it was sometimes hard to stay happy if one was struggling to pay their bills, and she pointed out that public school teachers often worked much harder than their paychecks might indicate. Sam quietly piped up and said that he'd make sure Leah wouldn't have to struggle over anything. Sue gave him an appraising and somewhat skeptical glance, but Harry just smiled at him. Then Leah threw her arms around his neck and said he was the sweetest boyfriend ever, while Seth shielded his eyes and called them gross.

Harry later pulled him aside and asked him if he had anything in particular in mind for his future. Sam panicked while he tried to figure out if he was supposed to ask Harry's permission to propose to Leah. Wasn't it too soon? He wouldn't have enough money for the ring until the following summer, and even then he'd still only be seventeen. Wouldn't Harry want him to wait until they were both eighteen?

His mouth opened and closed like a fish until Harry said something about college. Thank god. "Oh. Yeah. That. Marty told me about a construction management degree. WSU and UDub both have them."

"You like the work you do with him, huh?"

"Yeah. Better than mowing lawns, anyway. It's nice to stop at the end of the day and look at something concrete I've just finished, you know? We mostly do patching and repair work, but sometimes we do the roofs on new houses, and I liked knowing I helped make them."

"I can see that. You still getting a little work now that the school year has started?"

"Some. I'm cleaning out some gutters and raking leaves. It isn't as much fun as roofing, but now I can pay for my car insurance."

"Mm. Why construction management and not just a construction job? You want to be the boss?"

Sam shook his head. "Not exactly. I mean, I don't want to do it just so I don't have to report to someone else. Everybody's got a boss, right?"

Harry chuckled, glancing into the kitchen where Sue was directing Leah and Seth how to help her prepare their dinner. "You know who mine is." He looked back at Sam, who was staring at Leah. "And I think I know who yours is too."

Sam felt his cheeks burning and hoped his blush didn't show through his dark skin. "She, uh, she deserves just... everything."

Harry smiled at him. "I agree. And you're not so bad yourself, kid."

X-x-x-x-X

He did feel bad, though, when Leah slipped on a patch of ice outside the high school, crashing down the steps and breaking her fibula. He was standing only a few feet away from her when she fell, and he felt he should have been able to catch her. Every time she winced, he wished he could take her injury into himself to spare her the pain. The only good news was that she could still hobble along in a walking cast instead of using crutches, but it definitely put a damper on their physical relationship. Even though it was winter, they frequently jogged outside together (sometimes only as far as his empty house, though, where they had a different kind of work out), and she obviously couldn't do that now. Nor was she able to maneuver her awkward boot inside the cab of his truck very easily, so the truck was relegated to transportation duties only. He silently endured an increasingly uncomfortable case of blue balls, relieved only in an unsatisfying manner with his right hand, but he also pulled himself out of the fog of lust he had been lost in for most of the past year, and he was reminded of the things he had always loved about her. They spent more time with Seth, who had always thought of Sam as his big brother, and Emily spent two weekends visiting.

He watched the girls laughing together and realized he should be more thankful for her cousin's place in her life. Emily's visits always put Leah in a good mood. He once jokingly asked Emily if they talked about him when he wasn't around. She didn't look him directly in the eye when she responded, which left him wondering, but she insisted that Leah only had good things to say. He told her that Leah absolutely loved her. He left out Leah's low opinions of her relationships, of course, particularly since the last he had heard, she had once again reconciled with Mark. He wasn't sure if they were still together, though, since their status seemed to change as often as the temperature, and he was frankly afraid to ask.

Thankfully, he was finally comfortable with her after years of exposure. Considering how long they had known each other, it was odd that they weren't friends. He didn't count her as such; she was part of Leah's circle, not his, but he had finally forced himself to get over his discomfort for Leah's sake. She had seemed to do the same. She actually talked to him a little bit, going so far as to initiate a few conversations with him. Leah was thrilled about it. Not only had she always wanted them to get along, but she told each of them separately that they were missing out by not appreciating the wonderful qualities of the other.

Leah had gone so far as to suggest setting Emily up with Bobby. She said he was cute (causing Sam's jealousy to flare until she said that he was just plain hot while Bobby was stuck at cute), and the couple times Bobby and Emily had met, Bobby was able to strike up a conversation with Emily pretty easily. Better yet, he was a genuinely nice guy, unlike Mark and the other guys she had dated. Emily said he was too young for her, he was too baby-faced, and he didn't seem to act half as grown up as Sam did, who was the same age. Leah insisted that if Emily wanted to meet a guy more like Sam (which caused both Emily and Sam to blush deeply enough for the other to see), she should stop going out with guys like Mark and try something different. The next time she broke up with Mark (or got dumped, Sam was never clear on that point), Emily finally agreed.

So on a wet day in July, the four of them went on a double date: dinner at the Lodge. It would have been excruciating if it weren't for Leah. She could practically hold a conversation by herself. Bobby made a valiant effort and chatted Emily up about movies, books, and music. She answered monosyllabically and pushed her food around her plate. Leah jumped in, cracking jokes and telling entertaining anecdotes. She told stories about herself and Sam from their childhood that she should have been embarrassed about, wanting to make fun of herself to ease the others' discomfort. For a while, Sam even forgot Bobby and Emily were there. His LeeLee's eyes shone, her dimples kept popping up, and she looked incredibly pretty. Everyone laughed uproariously at her stories except Emily, who chuckled politely. Sam figured she had probably heard most of the stories before. Afterward they went to see a movie. Sam missed half the plot trying to steal kisses from Leah, who kept giggling and pushing him away. Emily and Bobby sat stiffly on her other side and didn't touch, but at least they didn't have to try to talk to each other.

Afterward, Bobby told Sam that Emily was pretty but dull (Sam insisted she was just shy). Emily told Leah that Bobby wasn't her type, and Leah said she'd stop matchmaking since it made her so uncomfortable. Emily told her to keep her eye out for someone more passionate, and maybe she'd be willing to try again. Leah wasn't sure what she meant, but Emily wasn't able to explain.

When she left for Neah Bay the next day, Sam was at the Clearwater house waiting to take Leah out. He arrived before Emily was gone, and he took her bag to her car. She bent into the hatchback, and he thought she was searching for something. He didn't wait for her, rushing back to Leah, who was standing on the porch. He picked her up by her waist and told her that she owed him for spoiling their last date by taking other people along, and he asked her to make it up to him. She coughed and squirmed instead of answering, so he set her on her feet before turning around to see Emily standing right behind him and looking blankly at the front door. He immediately felt regretful. He hadn't meant for her to hear that he didn't want her around. He mumbled an apology while Leah hugged her and told her to ignore Sam. Then she whispered something in Emily's ear that made the other girl blush and giggle, but they refused to tell him what it was. Leah stayed on the porch waving at Emily as she drove off, while Sam stood behind her with one arm around her waist and the other pulling her hair aside so he could kiss the back of her neck. He kept her firmly pressed against him, not very subtly pushing his hips into her backside, while she laughed and wriggled, half-heartedly trying to get away. When Emily's car was finally out of sight, she finally twisted around to return his kiss. "You're supposed to behave around Em," she chided.

"She's gone." He tried to kiss her again, but she turned slightly so she could keep talking, so he peppered them over her cheek instead.

Laughing, she answered, "But she wasn't until just now. Couldn't you wait just a few more seconds?"

"Nuh uh." He nuzzled his nose into her neck. "It's been too long, LeeLee. It's been, like, a week. You had me all worked up yesterday in the theater, too. You've been teasing me."

"I'm not teasing you! We just haven't been alone for a week." He could hear the smile in her voice, so he knew she wasn't mad.

He kissed the spot under her ear and she moaned a little. "But we're alone now. She's gone."

But he felt her hands pushing at his chest. "We're not alone, silly! We're practically in public, and my entire family is right inside!"

"Why?" he whined, dropping his head to her shoulder. "Make them go away."

"How?" she laughed, draping her arms around him.

"I don't care. I just need to get you alone. Can't you tell?" He grabbed her by the hips and pushed his erection into her stomach.

She snorted. "Everyone can tell."

"Who's everyone? Am I so horny that everyone can see it from inside? Actually yeah. It feels that way."

"I'm pretty sure Em could tell."

"Was that what you were whispering about? Were you making fun of me? Tormenting me and then laughing about it?"

"Tormenting you? No. Making fun of you? Maybe."

He ground into her a little. "Make it up to me."

She undulated against him. He was certain it was deliberate. "Okay," she whispered.

Huh. Did his whining actually work? He pulled back to look at her. "Okay?"

She smiled seductively up at him. "Okay. Let's, um, go for a picnic."

"A 'picnic'?" He put his fingers up in air quotes.

"A real picnic. With food. And a nice blanket to spread on the ground. In that little clearing in the woods where nobody ever goes." Her eyes gleamed, and she licked her lips.

He gulped. "Good idea."

They were packing their food when they got a call. Emily's car had blown a flat tire before she made it out of town. Sam smacked his head against her kitchen cabinet in frustration before driving Leah to her cousin in his pick-up. Together they changed the tire, employing the skill that Harry had taught them both, while Emily shuffled her feet and apologized for ruining their date. Sam scowled and didn't forgive her for the interruption, but Leah insisted it was no big deal, and they were happy to help. Emily wanted to know what she could do to return the favor, and all Sam could think was that he wanted her to turn back time and not show up at all. Of course, he was smart enough not to say so.

An hour later, after Emily was on her way and they had finally arrived at their intended destination, Leah told him he was a wonderful boyfriend for helping her cousin. He would have done it with or without the gratitude, of course, but when she dropped to her knees in front of him and said she he deserved "a special thanks", suddenly he wasn't so annoyed.

The next time he saw Emily, she again asked him what she could do to return the favor. Beside her, Leah winked at him, and he knew she was thinking of the long and blissful afternoon that had followed. He mumbled that it was nothing, thinking that Leah had paid him back in full, but Emily said that she owed him one anyway. Several months later, he cashed in the favor.

X-x-x-x-X

Just as expected, by the end of the summer Sam had enough money to buy a ring. He thought he might even have enough left over to pay for the road trip that he and Leah still wanted to take after graduation. But when he started to look at the selection, he got completely lost. He had absolutely no idea what styles to consider. There only appeared to be two colors, gold and silver, but there were three kinds of metals, regular gold, white gold, and platinum. What exactly was the difference? Was one of them obviously better than the others? And although there were many kinds of gems, engagement rings only seemed to be made of diamonds. Why was that? Did Leah even like diamonds? She rarely wore jewelry other than the locket he had given her, and when she did wear something else, it had more color than a diamond. Would she like a diamond anyway? Should he give her something different, or would she not even know what it was? And if there was only one kind of acceptable rock and two colors of bands, how could this possibly be so complicated? Then he looked at prices, and he was floored. How could two rings that looked almost identical to him be astronomically different in price? What on earth was the difference?

He got so confused that he stopped thinking about proposing for months. It was far too soon anyway. He was certain that Harry wouldn't stand for an engagement before Leah turned eighteen (and even then he would probably balk at the idea), and that was months away. He would probably have even better luck if he waited until after graduation, and that was another month after her birthday. He just wasn't sure he could wait that long.

He saw the way other guys looked at her, and it made him want to cover her in a burlap sack. It irritated her to no end, partly because she still didn't seem to recognize how others saw her.

At seventeen, it was an agreed-upon objective fact that she was the most beautiful girl on the reservation. She was too gorgeous for her own good. He occasionally heard boys talking crudely about her body, and Bobby or Johnny had to restrain him from pummeling some poor soul into the ground on more than one occasion. And now that he was six foot two and had filled out with muscles after years of manual labor, he could probably do some real damage. It was odd, because he was normally very even-tempered. He had been hearing such things about her for years (although now that her body had developed to the point of, as he once overheard, "pure sin", it was undoubtedly worse), and he used to feel a flush of male pride that she was his. So long as no one harassed his LeeLee, he let it slide. But now he was getting the urge to blind anyone who looked at her the wrong way. Damn. She made him a little crazy.

He hoped that an engagement ring on her finger would mark her as taken and would fend them away. He knew it was possessive of him, and he felt a little bad about it. On the other hand, if she wanted to mark him as hers too, that was more than fine with him. Heck. He should just make them matching tee shirts. Hers would say "Property of Sam Uley", and his, "Property of Leah Clearwater". It would certainly be cheaper than a diamond ring. He'd get it tattooed across his neck if she wanted.

Eventually he went to Emily for advice. He was too worried about his mother's reaction to ask her, and he couldn't think of anyone else. Plus wouldn't Emily know the kind of style that Leah liked?

He ended up surreptitiously stealing her number out of Leah's phone. He had tried to pull her aside when she visited over the holidays, but he didn't get the chance. And now that Emily was enrolled in community college and also working at a bakery on the side, she didn't have as much time to come to La Push. Leah missed her cousin's frequent visits, which had really picked up over the summer, but Sam was thrilled to get her alone more often. If only he could get her away from the twins (whom he was certain would not help him buy a ring), he'd have her to himself.

She sounded bewildered when she picked up her phone and he was on the other end of the line. "Sam? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. How are you?"

"Uh, uh," she stuttered, "I guess I'm fine. Is Leah okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. She's great. Better than great."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "Then what can I do for you?"

He felt like an idiot. He supposed he should just jump in. "Well, the reason I'm calling is…" But he really didn't know what to say.

"Yes?"

"I want to get married." He just blurted it out.

She sounded like she was choking. "Excuse me? You what?"

"To Leah!" he practically yelled before clearing his throat and lowering his volume. "I'm thinking of proposing. I don't know when, or how, not yet obviously, but now I'm looking at rings. I have no idea what I'm doing. Can you help me? I want it to be perfect and I know it won't be if I don't get some help."

There was another pause on the other end. "I think you'll probably do great," she finally answered quietly.

"But I want her to love it. I want it to be perfect. I mean, every time she looks at her hand for the entire rest of her life, it's gonna be there. So I want her to really love it. But there are too many choices, and I don't know what to get."

"She'll love it because you're giving it to her."

Damn. Was she not going to help him? He supposed it was a rather bold request from someone she wasn't particularly close to. "Okay. Well, then, sorry for bothering you. Can you, um, not tell her anything at least? I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh!" She quickly backtracked. "You're not bothering me. I'll help. And I won't say anything."

Thank god. Or rather, thank Emily. So he did. They decided to go to Port Angeles, where she said he'd have a better selection.

It wasn't until after they hung up that he realized he sounded presumptuous. Every time she looks at her hand for the rest of her life? He was assuming a lot. But as nervous as he was about picking the right time to ask, the right place to ask, setting up the most romantic date during which to ask, and the right ring with which to ask, there was not one question in his mind about who to ask. Nor did he have any serious doubt that she'd say yes. Of course she would. They belonged together.

It actually took another month to go to Port Angeles with Emily. If she was free, she tended to visit Leah anyway, or she was too busy with work or a date, or Sam himself already had plans with Leah and didn't want to cancel them. But today Leah was tutoring Paul Lahote, which Sam wasn't happy about because the little punk didn't bother to hide that he spent more time trying to look down Leah's shirt than listening to what she was trying to teach him. Of course, Leah was the only reason he was no longer failing out of physics and algebra II, so he must have been paying some attention. Later that evening, she was going to sleep over at the twins' house, and he was most definitely not invited. He figured he'd take the opportunity to see Bobby and Johnny, but first he would make a detour to Port Angeles.

He picked Emily up on the way. She had offered to meet him there, but it was a solid hour and a half away, and she was doing him a favor. They didn't really know what to say to one another. He asked her about her classes, which were apparently all online, and her new job. She had more to say about the job than her courses, which wasn't saying much. They kept up a stilted conversation until he turned the radio up to fill the silence.

Finally she spoke up, but so quietly that he almost missed her talking altogether. "Sam? I was wondering."

"Huh? What was that?" He knew she had spoken, but not what she had said.

"I was wondering," she spoke up slightly, "how you know."

"Know? Know what?"

"You seem so sure, is all. About Leah."

"Oh, that." What was he supposed to say? The truth, he supposed. "I guess I am. Sure, I mean."

"But how? You're still kind of a kid. No offense, but it's true. Most guys I know, they're all older than you, and they can't even decide if they want to go on a date a month from now. But you want to get married."

"It's not about getting married, Em. It's about getting married to Leah. It's… I… She's so… She's my best friend. She's been my best friend forever, and I want her to keep on being… It's just so obvious that we should." Well, he had better work on his proposal speech. That wasn't going to cut it. Although he was certain that even with no preparation, entirely off the cuff, he'd be able to come up with something better to say to Leah. But the girl sitting next to him wasn't his LeeLee, it was her second cousin, and he didn't know what to tell her about how he felt about her best friend. He wasn't proposing to her, after all. He chuckled nervously and continued, "I'll bet those guys you know, if they had Leah standing in front of them, smiling at them the way she does? They'd make a date a month away."

Her voice hardened. "You think?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her frown, and he realized he had stuck his foot firmly in his mouth. He tried to backpedal. "I mean, that's how I feel when she looks at me. Like I'd just do anything to make her smile. But I'm smart enough to know a good thing when I see it. I know lots of guys aren't."

"She is pretty great, isn't she," Emily admitted with a little sigh.

Considering the favor she was doing for him, he could stand to be nicer. He flashed her a smile, the one that Leah said was "panty dropping". "She's not the only great one."

She blinked at him before looking at her lap, but her lips had turned upward at the corners. "Not sure anyone else agrees with you on that one," she murmured.

"Leah agrees."

"Yeah, well, she's my best friend. She has to think that. And she's related to me, and a girl, and it really doesn't count if she thinks so." He tried to figure out what to say. What would Leah say to Emily if she was here?

He gave it his best shot. "But she's right. She doesn't have to think that, she only does because you're pretty and kind and fun to be around." Or Leah seemed to think so, anyway.

Her head popped up. "You really think so?"

"Of course! You're letting me take up your whole day just to make sure I don't screw up and give your best friend a terrible ring. Not everybody would go through all that trouble. And just because Mark is too much of an idiot to see how great you are, doesn't mean it's not true. One of these days you'll meet someone better than him, someone with an ounce of sense, someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

The conversation settled after that, and when he glanced at her she seemed to be smiling a little. They listened to music for the rest of the ride, and then they arrived downtown.

But after they entered the first jewelry store, things got awkward again. They were peering into a case of diamond rings when a clerk appeared in front of them. "You two make such a lovely couple. Are congratulations in order?" she beamed at them.

Sam and Emily both froze like deer in headlights. The clerk saw their matching, startled expressions and apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm totally getting ahead of myself. How can I help you?"

"R-Rings," was all Sam came up with. "I'm looking at rings." He mentally chided himself. Obviously she had already figured that out since they were staring at a case full of them.

"Yes, of course." She nodded. "Anything in particular catching your eye? Is there a particular occasion?"

"Engagement rings," he clarified.

She smiled warmly at them. "So I wasn't too far off the mark. What strikes your fancy, dear?" She looked at Emily. Why hadn't he said they were for Emily's cousin? It would have been so simple.

"Um, something simple, I think. Not too gaudy. Classic."

The clerk removed a tray of rings from the case. "Do you like anything in here?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure..."

"Well, let's narrow it down a bit, shall we?" She pulled out a few rings, and Emily rapidly weeded the selection down to a few solitaires with slightly different cuts and settings. The clerk nodded in approval. "Classic, like you said. Now, what kind of size are you looking at? And keep in mind the budget." She finally looked at Sam again. "Or is that a subject for another day?"

Another awkward conversation followed, during which they finally explained that they were not shopping for Emily, but her best friend, and that he had enough money to buy a decent ring. The saleswoman laughingly apologized for the misunderstanding, then gave Sam a lesson on how to select a diamond. After that it only took a little time to find what Emily thought was the perfect ring. He was about to buy it, his head suddenly swimming with visions of how he could propose, but Emily convinced him to shop around a little to see if he could get a better price.

They walked two blocks away to Port Angeles' other downtown jewelry store. This time they were clearer on who Emily was and whom the ring was for. They got the same lesson from a different clerk but saw more rings for slightly better prices. Sam walked out with a princess cut solitaire set on a raised white gold band shoved deep into his pocket.

He took Emily out for an early dinner to thank her for her help. They went to a little seafood restaurant on the waterfront, where they were again mistaken for a newly-engaged couple by their waitress when Sam handed Emily the ring to look at one more time. After correcting the young woman's mistake, she sighed and gave the ring back. "I do hope I get one of these someday."

"Of course you will. Hopefully not from Mark, though."

She shook her head. "I'd say Mark might give me a ring pop, but that could actually be romantic depending on the circumstances. So even that would never happen."

Sam leaned back in his chair and took an objective look at Emily. She was nice, pretty, and seemed reasonably smart. So what was she still doing with Mark? "Do you actually want him to?"

She looked surprised. "What, propose? No." It was a definitive answer.

"Do you even like the guy? Because it's honestly hard to tell."

"Well..." She didn't seem to have much of an answer.

He shook his head in confusion. "So why keep getting back together with him? What's the point?"

She kept her eyes firmly planted on her plate. "He's not much, but he's better than being alone."

Sam finally asked the question Leah had brought up every time they spoke of it. "What's wrong with being alone?"

Emily actually snorted. "Asks the guy who hasn't been single for a minute of his natural life."

"Hey," he protested. "We've only been dating since freshman year!"

"Are you trying to tell me you weren't in love with Leah from the time you were in diapers?" When he didn't respond, she chuckled. "Right. You know, you could stand to maybe tell her."

He was totally confused. "Tell her what?" She looked him steadily in the eye, appraising him. "Seriously. What?"

Very quietly, Emily responded, "That you love her. She says you've never actually said the words."

Sam was floored. He gaped at her like a fish. He was appalled that Leah would tell Emily something so private, while he simultaneously felt guilty, because it was the truth. She said she loved him, and he said, "I do too." But he had never actually spoken the words. "Does she actually think... I mean... I mean, isn't it obvious how I feel?"

"Yeah," Emily sighed. "I think it is. Even if I hadn't been there the night in that storm when you climbed up and made that crazy speech, I'd have known. But it would mean a lot to her if you did. She's insecure just like any other girl."

He quickly protested, "But that's just it. She isn't just like any other girl. She's special. More than special. She's amazing. She's got not one thing to be insecure about."

Then Emily shook her head. "See, how can you say things like that, but not those three little words? I mean, you're ready to ask her to marry you. How could it be harder than that? You do, don't you?"

He didn't answer her directly. If he was going to finally say those all-important words, it certainly wasn't going to be to Emily. It would be to Leah herself. "She's everything. You know that, I know that, she knows that."

"Maybe she thinks she's your everything just because she's been there forever, not because you're truly in love. Maybe she thinks you love her, but she isn't sure if you're in love with her."

After that the awkward silence between became exponentially worse. On the drive back to Neah Bay, he couldn't think of anything to say. He kept his eyes straight ahead but felt her peeking at him out of the corner of her eye from time to time.

He pondered her questions as he drove home. He wasn't sure what to make of Emily's theories. Were they Leah's thoughts or Emily's? Surely Leah couldn't doubt him the way Emily did. He decided that her cousin was probably just being protective of her. And even if she wasn't, and Leah wasn't confident of his feelings for her, he would make them crystal clear when he gave her the ring. Men who loved their girlfriends but weren't in love would never propose without prompting.

He hadn't honestly thought about any of it for months. His illogical reasoning still held true: the words still didn't mean enough. They were words that continued to be misused and abused by people who didn't even know what love was. Guys like Mark probably used them in empty speeches to girls like Emily, and worse yet, men like Joshua manipulated women like Allison with them. As for Leah, he still hadn't figured out the language to explain to her how he felt, so he did what he thought best. He kept trying to show her. Plus the longer he was with her, and the longer he didn't say it, the harder it became.

Grandma called him just as he arrived home. The drain under her kitchen sink had sprung a vigorous leak. He rushed over just as his mother was returning home from her shift at the resort, yelling an explanation over his shoulder.

Grandma thanked him profusely when he arrived. She had already cleared out the cabinet and brought up her tools. He dutifully lay on his back and slid in. It only took him a few minutes of exploring to figure out that he needed to replace the drain trap, but the hardware store in Forks had closed at five. He turned off the water to the sink and scooted out from under the drain. That was when Grandma bent over and picked something off the ground. "You dropped this, dear." Sam stood up as she realized what she was holding. "What's this? A little something for your Strawberry Girl?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. It's for her."

"May I?" she asked.

He didn't really want to let her, but he wasn't sure how to say no without raising suspicion. "Okay, yeah." Apparently everyone was going to know about his proposal before Leah.

Her eyes widened when she opened the box. "Sammy! Is this what I think it is?" He just nodded while she stared. "It's beautiful." Then she frowned, and he wondered if he was going to get a speech about how they were both too young to get married. "Is she pregnant?"

"What? No! I just want to marry her!" Great. Everyone was going to think that, weren't they? At least until her belly failed to grow.

Then Grandma smiled. "I can hardly blame you for that. She's a lovely young woman, and she already feels like family. Might as well make it official, mm? And snatch her up before someone else does."

"Yeah."

Something must have shown on his expression, because she reassured him, "Darling, that girl adores you. She's going to say yes."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know."

"Rather confident, are we?" she teased. "Oh, of course you are. She loves you as much as much as you love her. But how will you break the news to Harry?"

"Um, by starting with the fact she isn't pregnant?"

Grandma laughed heartily. "Good idea. But have you considered asking his permission?"

He absolutely had not. The thought terrified him far more than the prospect of asking Leah. After all, he was pretty sure she'd say yes. Harry, on the other hand... "He'll kill me."

She laughed again. "He's a lot more likely to kill you if you haven't asked him first."

"But he'll say no!"

"Then wait a while and ask again. He'll say yes eventually."

"What, when we're thirty?"

"I don't think it will take that long. In all seriousness, though, he's a lot more likely to accept it if you give him a chance to speak his mind without his daughter standing in front of him. Plus he's a good man, and he deserves your respect."

Sam pondered this. She was probably right, but he wasn't sure what he'd do when Harry said no.

His grandmother interrupted him again. She held up the ring. "May I ask how you afforded this?"

"From work. How else?"

"Do you have anything left over?"

"A little. Not that much. But I'm still working."

"I thought that money was for college?"

He looked at his feet. "It's for Leah. It was always for Leah. For that," he pointed at the ring, "and maybe a little something else."

She closed the little box and handed it back to him, craning her neck to look at him. "What, new clothes? How tall are you now? You're still shooting up like a weed. Much taller than your father, even."

"A late growth spurt, I guess. Last I checked I was six four. But I think I'm taller than that now."

"You're eating your mother out of house and home to keep up that growth. It's ridiculous."

"I'm happy to stop, but not really sure how to make it happen."

"I guess it's really not up to you, is it?" She smiled at him. "But maybe you should think about saving some of your money for clothes and school."

"I already bought the ring, Grandma," he frowned. "And I really want to marry her."

Her face softened. "Being able to go to school can be for her too, you know. So you should think about this." She held out her left hand and looked at her own engagement ring nested against her wedding ring. "I've worn this every day for fifty three years. Unfortunately only thirty two of them with your grandfather by my side." She gently worked it off her finger and held it out to him. It was a round solitaire, a bit larger than the one he had picked out, and on a band slightly more slender. "It would mean a lot to me if you gave this to your Leah. If it stayed in the family, you know?"

He breathed, "I can't take this from you. It's yours!"

She smiled. "It's not actually the original. I'm keeping the original." She pulled a pendant from under her shirt. It was a black gem in a silver circle. He had seen it a hundred times but never thought about it before. "Your grandfather was a good man. He didn't have a lot of formal education; he had to quit school so that he could support the family, and he started on a fishing boat when he was fourteen. He never made it to high school, but he had brains aplenty to make up for it. He didn't have enough money for a normal diamond when he gave this to me. So this black diamond originally sat in that setting. I didn't need a new one, but once he saved enough, he had it reset with the white diamond. But I wasn't willing to give up the one we got engaged with, so we put it on this pendant. This one stays with me."

Sam stared at the ring in his hand. "It's just so much, Grandma."

"If you don't like it, or if you want something that's just your own, you're not going to offend me."

"No, no! It's wonderful. She'll love it."

"And she's a practical girl. She'll also love that you can cover a few months' rent with the money you saved."

He stared at the ring in his hand. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He hugged her tightly. "She'll love it even more because of where it came from. She loves you, you know."

"I love her too, Sammy. But you know that already. I wouldn't be giving that to her if I didn't, would I?"

He laughed. "Giving it to her or to me?"

"Both of you. To both of you."

X-x-x-x-X

Sam returned the store-bought ring the following weekend. He garnered pitying looks from the saleswoman until he explained that he couldn't turn down his grandmother's offer, and then he tried to figure out how to propose to Leah. But first he had to get past Harry.

He waited for the right moment, namely, after college acceptance letters went out at the beginning of April. He and Leah had applied to all the same schools, the public universities in state as well as a few smaller colleges and community colleges as backup. They had received emails from all the smaller schools already, more acceptances than rejections. But they were awaiting real letters from all three University of Washington campuses, including their mutual first choice in Seattle. On April 4 he got home for dinner after basketball practice and retrieved the mail from the box. He didn't notice Leah waiting in the shadows of the porch because he was too busy pulling a thick letter out of the pile.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked.

He jumped back two feet, yelling, "Crap!" and threw the mail in the air. "I didn't know you were there!"

She managed to look guilty as she covered her mouth and laughed. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to scare you!"

"Why were you hiding, then?"

"I wasn't! You just weren't looking."

He chuckled. "You think I ever miss it when you're anywhere nearby?"

"Yeah, when you're holding that in your hand." She pointed at the envelope on the ground. "Where's it from?"

He grinned at her. "Where do you think?"

She bent to her backpack sitting on the floor of the porch and pulled out an identical envelope. "Maybe the same place this is from."

He peered at the logo. A purple "W". "Which one?"

"I don't know." She shook her head. "I've been too nervous to look that closely. But wherever they're from, they're huge, so that can only be good news, right?"

"Yeah. It doesn't take this much paper to say 'We regret to inform you...'"

"Good. So I didn't look at the details yet. I don't know if it's Seattle or not. I wanted to do it together. I hoped you'd gotten yours too."

"Okay. Should we look at the postmarks or open them?"

"Rip 'em! On the count of three, okay?"

He snatched his off the ground.

She took a deep breath. "One, two, three!" And after a huge tear, she screamed, "Oh my god! I got in!"

"No kidding," he snorted as she threw her arms around his neck, nearly tackling him off the porch. "Me too. Didn't we figure that out already? Which one, for god's sake? Seattle?"

"Not just Seattle. The Honors program!" She dropped back to the floor before he had actually let her go, which sent him toppling into her. They ended up a tangled heap. But she wouldn't let him get up. Instead she snatched his letter out from under them. "Yes! Seattle! We're moving to Seattle!" she squealed.

He started to tell her how happy he was, but she yanked him down for a kiss, and then they were making out in true teenager fashion on his front porch. He hadn't even taken off his backpack, which actually helped disguise what they were doing when his mother pulled up the driveway. He hastily told her they'd tripped, and she actually seemed to believe them since their mail was scattered everywhere. And even if she didn't, she was so happy she started to cry, because not only would her Sam would be the first person in their family to go to college, he would do so at one of the best universities in the country.

Allison wasn't willing to let either of them go yet, so Leah agreed to let her take them out to a celebratory dinner, a rare treat on their tight budget. They went to the resort's restaurant that overlooked the water. She was more animated than either of them had seen her in years. She knew all the staff, of course, and proudly gushed to everyone that her baby was going to college. Then she looked at Leah and said that she had helped raised her too, so she was going to take credit for both of them. From then on she said that both her babies were going to college together.

After dinner Sam walked Leah home through a light drizzle. Harry and Sue were waiting impatiently for their daughter's return; she had left before either of them had returned from work, although she had left a note saying where she was going. They too had been waiting for the admissions letters to arrive in the mail, and they had gotten Seth worked up to the point that he yanked the bag off Leah's shoulder and started rooting through it before she even said hello.

When Leah announced her acceptance to the Honors program, Sue didn't say anything at all. She just grabbed her daughter and didn't let go. Harry awkwardly hugged them both, but when he realized he couldn't pry his wife off his daughter, he decided to let them be. Seth laughed and joined their group hug. Sam decided that now was as good a time as any; Harry could only be in so bad of a mood while congratulating them both. His hands began to sweat and his heart started to pound, but he took a deep breath and decided to man up. He asked Harry to step outside with him, and they went to the porch.

Harry immediately saw the look on Sam's face and made a quick assumption. "Oh, Sam. I'm sorry. I know you were hoping to go to the same school. But I know you already got into some really good programs. In Seattle, even. But remember son, you need to make the best choice for yourself, for you future, not just based on proximity to Le..."

Sam realized Harry wasn't going to stop anytime soon, so he interrupted him. "No, no. I got in. I got in too. We were just out celebrating with my mom. That's what took us so long."

"Oh! Then congratulations, son!" Harry reached in for a hug, clapping him on the back firmly. "You're going to do great! But why the long face? Thinking about the tuition bill already?" He laughed, but it was a bit forced. Sam knew that Harry was concerned about his mother's limited ability to finance his education, and because scholarships were not awarded until much later in the season, they'd all be nervous until they could figure out how to pay the cost of school.

"No, no," Sam chuckled uncomfortably. "That's not it. I... I have something else to ask you."

"To ask me?" Harry looked at him blankly.

"About Leah."

Harry squared his shoulders and frowned, and Sam realized that he wasn't talking to the man who had been his most consistent father figure since he was small. He wasn't even speaking to Harry the elder. He was speaking to an overprotective father about his precious baby girl. "Go on."

"You know how I feel about her."

Harry answered him warily. "I suppose."

"I want her to be happy. It's more important to me than anything. And I think I've done an okay job at that. I think I mostly make her happy. She's been my best friend forever, and I've tried to be good to her too." Harry just silently stared at him, so he plowed forward. He could probably turn back now, but he didn't want to. "You know that she's the most important part of my life. That if I've ever done anything good, if I've worked hard or dedicated myself, that if I've ever succeeded at work or school or anything, it's for her. To prove myself to her. To be good enough for her." Harry's scowl deepened, and he folded his arms over his chest, but still he said nothing. "I don't know if I could ever do enough, be enough, to be worthy of her. But I want to try. And I want to try for the rest of my life. I want to be there for her. I know I can take care of her, almost as well as she takes care of me. Everywhere I go, everything I do, I want to do it with her, because everything's better when she's there."

"What are you saying, son?" Harry didn't look like he actually wanted to know the answer.

Sam took a deep breath and made sure to look Harry in the eye. He towered over him now, like he towered over everyone, but he might as well have been three feet tall. "I want to marry her. I want to make her happy, and take care of her, every day for the rest of our lives. So I guess... I was hoping to get your approval. Your blessing. You know," he faltered when Harry didn't answer, and he remembered his grandmother's advice. "She's, uh, not pregnant or anything, so don't worry about that. That's not why." Harry somehow managed to look appalled, shocked, and relieved all at once. "I just want to marry her. So, uh, I guess I'm asking... What do they call it? Asking you for her hand."

Harry stared at him for what felt like ten straight minutes, but was probably only a matter of seconds. Then he turned away, opened the door, and went inside. Sam gaped at him. He had expected to be yelled at, at the very least. Punched, maybe. He had dared to hope for a yes. He hadn't expected to be told nothing at all. He peered inside and saw Harry embracing Leah. Then her father turned and went down the hallway to his study and shut the door.

Sam didn't know what to do. Was Harry loading his rifle? Should he run? Or was he crying? Should he just grab a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet, set it by the door with a glass of ice, knock, and walk away?

He entered the house, where Sue and Leah were staring after Harry. "What's he doing, mom?"

Sue tilted her head. "It's a little hard watching your baby girl grow up into a young woman, sweetheart, even if she is an amazing one."

Leah turned to him. "What's going on, Sam? What did you guys say to each other?"

A part of him felt like blurting out his proposal then and there. But it really wasn't the time. He didn't have the ring, and he needed to give Harry a little time to process his request. After all, he had asked. He ought to wait for some kind of answer, right? "I think he just needs a minute. Or a few."

Sue pulled them into the kitchen. "Well, I think it's the right time for a little celebration. What do you think?"

She retrieved a bottle of champagne and a corkscrew. "I was saving this for a special occasion, and this definitely counts." She smirked at them. "You don't need to tell me this is your first time drinking, either. You both know better than to drink to excess anyway."

"But it is!" Sam protested. After seeing the effects of alcohol on his father, he had no interest in touching the stuff. Leah had tried beer at a couple parties, but she didn't particularly care for the taste and didn't bother having more. She had gotten tipsy on Jell-O shots once, but generally his sobriety encouraged hers. "I've never had a drop."

Sue paused as she twisted the corkscrew, thinking of Joshua too. "Oh, and you certainly don't need to right now. I'm sorry. Maybe we should have something else. I've got some fancy chocolates around here somewhere." She began to root around her pantry.

Sam ended up graciously accepting a small glass of champagne, and they all had too much chocolate. Eventually Harry made his way out of his study. He kissed Leah on her cheek, apologized for running off, and downed three glasses of champagne in rapid succession. He didn't look at Sam at all, and eventually Sam left to escape the tension. He didn't get a chance to give Leah a proper goodbye, so he snuck back later in the night for a goodnight kiss at her window, but he didn't climb in or stay the night due to fear that her father was on alert.

X-x-x-x-X

Harry made him sweat it out for a week and a half. He didn't say a single word to Sam the entire time. It was the longest they had gone without speaking for years. But the older man called him at home after ten days. He had very little to say. "She hasn't broken any more news to me or to her mother. Why is that?"

Sam was glad he wasn't standing in front of Harry right now, because he had to sit down, and he tripped while he did so. "Because I haven't asked her yet. I was waiting to hear what you'd say."

There was an extended pause. "What happens if I say no?"

"Grandma told me to keep asking, and eventually you'd get used to it and say yes."

"You talked to your grandma about all this?"

"Yeah."

"And you listened to her?"

Sam shuffled his feet and stared at the ceiling. "I guess? I mean, she gives good advice. And once she gave me her ring to give to Leah, well, I figured I ought to follow it."

More silence. Then, "She gave you her engagement ring?"

"Yeah. I returned the one I bought since hers will mean more... Uh, I mean, would mean, to Leah."

"Oh. I see." Then Harry hung up.

Sam stared at the phone in his hand blankly. Was that an answer? An acceptance? A rejection? He willed the phone to ring again, but it didn't. He frowned as he realized it was more of the same. No answer at all.

He tried to be patient. He hadn't asked Harry as a formality, not exactly. He really wanted his blessing. So he could stand to wait for it a little longer. But it was driving him crazy. His temper grew short. He started to snap at his mother or even Leah over small offenses. And it didn't help that he was hungry all the time, which also put him in a bad mood, or that he had growing pains deep in his bones that never seemed to relent.

But a few days after that, Harry finally pulled him aside. He was at Leah's for breakfast on a Saturday morning. Sue kept peeking at him, which made him incredibly nervous. Harry had slept in a bit, and he stumbled down the stairs looking disoriented and rumpled. He froze when he saw Sam at his kitchen table. Sam nodded hello, unable to bring himself to say anything more, and stuffed some bacon into his mouth. It was his eighth strip, he had already eaten a huge stack of pancakes, and he was still hungry.

Harry straightened, rolled back his shoulders, and narrowed his eyes at Sam. He looked far more intimidating than anyone wearing old pajamas and ratty slippers had any right to be. Sam swallowed, sat up on his chair, and returned Harry's gaze as evenly as he was able. They stared at each other for one of the longest moments of Sam's life. Finally Harry walked to him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "Okay, son. Okay."

Leah and Seth asked their father what was going on, but he just stepped to the stove and fixed himself a plate of food. He bid everyone a good morning and sat down to eat, while Sue looked between them. The conversation moved on from there, Leah and Seth taking over easily. When Sam left half an hour later, Harry murmured, "For the sake of my old heart, just wait until she's eighteen, okay? I know there's no real difference, but it feels a little easier."

And then Sam decided. He would propose on her birthday.

X-x-x-x-X

Since Harry and Sue were in on the secret, they agreed to give him a hand. Sue even provided him with Leah's ring size so he could get Grandma's refitted in anticipation. A month later she would turn eighteen. The days passed so agonizingly slowly that he wanted to tear his hair out. He was increasingly agitated, irritable, and terrified. His mother asked him if anything was going on. His basketball teammates wanted to know why he was suddenly fouling more, particularly since he was able to do real damage inadvertently due to his size and strength. Bobby and Johnny called him out on his general crankiness, although they also chalked it up to the pressures of keeping up his grades and studying for his finals and AP course examinations. Everyone else had developed serious cases of senioritis, but he was trying desperately to keep up his performance to increase the chances of winning scholarships. Luckily, his mother, Harry, and Sue all knew what was eating at him, and they cut him slack, although Harry would not be convinced to let him propose any earlier.

The only person who didn't say anything was Leah, because when he was around her, he was more calm and happy (or excited in a good way, and physically fulfilled). After all, he wasn't nervous about her, or even whether she would say yes. He was worried about exactly what he would say and if he could make it as perfect as he wanted it to be for her. So his moods swung wildly between aggressive irritability and blissful happiness.

The day finally arrived. Sue and Harry had planned a party in their home, hoping for a mild May that would be conducive to an outdoor celebration but planning for the usual rain. They rented tents in anticipation. For once the skies cooperated, and it was unseasonably warm. They invited Allison, Grandma Uley, Emily, and nearly every young person in La Push, and together they celebrated their daughter. It was a simple party, but the food was plentiful and good, the company was enthusiastic and in high spirits, and Leah had a wonderful time.

Sam saw Emily hovering around the edges. They hadn't seen each other since she helped him buy the ring, and he hadn't had an opportunity to tell her that he had returned it in favor for Grandma's. If all went well, though, she'd find out tonight.

He wasn't ready to talk to her again anyway. After their last interaction, he wasn't particularly interested in striking up a conversation. Whatever progress they had made over the years had been reversed during their dinner in Port Angeles. From time to time he'd feel her eyes on the back of his head again, and if he turned to look at her, she'd hastily look away.

Eventually he decided to pretend she wasn't there. After all, she was avoiding him, in all likelihood. Or maybe she was avoiding Bobby, who talked with him for much of the night. Leah was busy chatting happily with anyone who came her way, so he mostly watched her from afar. As he did so, he became increasingly nervous.

He was waiting for the right moment. It had seemed like such a good idea when he thought of it, but now he couldn't figure out why. Why had he chosen a time when they would be surrounded by people? It had the advantage of a celebratory atmosphere, of course. Seth and Harry had hung paper lanterns all around the yard, and the tents were strung with fairy lights and tulle. Leah looked stunning in a silver party dress, and he had put on a dress shirt and black slacks. His mother had even commented on their way out the door that he looked handsome and all grown up.

He didn't feel grown up. He felt like a wreck. Leah was busy talking to everyone else, the twins were annoyed with Johnny for something Sam didn't have the attention to comprehend, it was hard to keep avoiding Emily in the small space, his grandmother kept winking at him, and Harry wore a stoic mask that scared Sam as much as the silent treatment he had endured. The only distraction occurred when Quil Ateara body slammed Jacob Black into the beverage table while attempting to demonstrate a wrestling move.

Sam was contemplating asking her to come inside with him, or maybe go for a short walk in the woods, for a little bit of privacy. But before he could work up the nerve to ask, Sue began to usher everyone inside. She had bought a fancy cake covered in fondant and decorated like a present, and she didn't want to risk moving it outside. Instead she asked everyone to come inside to sing Happy Birthday around the cake. It was his best chance.

She took his embarrassingly sweaty hand as she headed inside, but he held her back and tugged her into the tent. She giggled and thought he was pulling her aside for a kiss, so she threw her arms around him and brought him down to her lips, and his anxiety faded away. He lost himself in the moment, in the sweetness of her lips and the softness of her body under his hands.

When she finally broke apart from him, turning to go inside, he held fast. "Wait. I want to give you your present." By the time she turned back to him, he was down on one knee. Her eyes widened as she took in his position.

His voice caught in his throat, so he cleared it. He had to look at her hand in his; he wasn't sure he'd get through the speech he had memorized if he looked her right in the eye. He took a deep breath and recited, "LeeLee, I know I'm young, and I know you're even younger, even though we're both technically adults today. But it doesn't matter. There's no way I could grow up, move on, explore the world, and ever find anybody better for me than you." Here he involuntarily looked up to meet her eyes, and they were filling with tears. He smiled at her because it was so natural to do so. "I could search the whole world. I could cross every path, climb every mountain, open every single door. I'd never find anyone that made me happier than you always have. You're not just kind, you're all heart, and you're willing to give it so openly. You're not just smart, you're brilliant. You're not just friendly, you light everything up everywhere you go."

She let out a little sob, murmuring, "Oh, Sammy." Her lip was trembling despite her sweet smile.

The smile gave him courage, so he continued. "And you've been my best friend since before I knew what a friend was. I could search everywhere, but I'd never find someone like you. Who could hold me together the way you have? Who could mend together the pieces of me into something whole? Who could lift me up, but still ground me to the earth? Who else knows everything about me, the good and the bad, the strong and the weak, the generous and the petty, and still love me anyway? Who else could make me happy the way you do? And I want to be that for you too. Everything you are for me, I want to be that for you. I want to do that every day for the rest of our lives. " He paused to pull Grandma's ring out of his pocket, but he fumbled the delicate jewelry and dropped it to the ground. As he bent to retrieve it, he muttered, "Oh man, this so much less smooth than I was…"

But she interrupted him, blurting, "Who cares? Just ask me!" He looked up at her as she realized what she had said. She clamped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean…"

Oh man. She was so adorable. He melted a little inside, and he started to laugh. That made her laugh too, and then they were sort of breaking down in hysterics together. He couldn't even get out the rest of his proposal, and his hands were shaking too much to get the ring on her finger. He even dropped it again. "Seriously?" he whined.

Then a loud, high pitched voice yelled out from behind him, "Just ask her already!" It caused uproarious laughter to erupt from the house and the spectators who had spilled out onto the lawn.

Leah yelled back, "He's getting to it, Seth!" Then more quietly, "You are, right?"

"Yeah. I am. I'm just slow, remember?" He took her hand back again and kissed it. "Will you please marry me?"

She nodded vigorously as tears streamed down her face and as cheers erupted. "Yes. Of course. Absolutely." He tried to slip the ring onto her fourth finger, but it got stuck at the knuckle, and they both broke into snorting, sniffling giggles as she tried and failed to help him, and he realized he was crying too. "Do you still want to marry me even though I have giant man hands?"

"You do not have man hands," he laughed. He placed her small palm against his huge one to illustrate. "I have man hands. See the difference?"

"You have mitts, not hands," she smiled, and straightened her finger, allowing the ring to finally slip on.

Then they were laughing and clinging to each other. He lifted her off the ground and spun her around and around as people surrounded them with congratulations. But he hardly heard them, because in his ear she was repeating, "I love you," over and over.

"Oh god, LeeLee. Me too, baby. I do too."

It was hours later, as he was dropping quietly from the roof by her room to the ground, Leah leaning out her window and blowing him kisses, that he realized he still hadn't told her he loved her.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410.


	18. Curse

Sam had thought that once Leah had accepted his proposal to be married, his irritability and short temper would have calmed into his usual placid personality. His AP exams were over, and he only had two other final exams to worry about. He, like everyone else, was in unapologetic senioritis mode, but rather than manifest itself as giddy distractibility, he felt unmitigating frustration and a compelling need to just be done already. He didn't understand. Was it because he was worried about leaving Allison and Grandma to themselves? It shouldn't be. They'd miss him, but he knew their loneliness would be outweighed by their pride for him. Was it because of his concern over paying for school? That didn't make sense either, because he qualified for both federal and state grants, and UDub had an excellent financial aid program called the Husky Promise that would cover the remaining cost of tuition. He only needed scholarships to cover room and board, and he could even borrow that if he had to. Plus he had a lot more money saved than he expected after Grandma gave him her ring. Was he just nervous about moving away from home? No, now that he was certain he'd be going alongside LeeLee, he was genuinely excited. He really didn't know what was going on.

It also didn't help that he was still growing at a ridiculous rate. In and of itself, that wasn't a bad thing, but his bones felt like they were continuously being pulled apart. His grandmother wasn't really joking when she had said he was eating his mother out of house and home; her grocery bills had basically doubled. At least he knew he'd be well fed for the next year; meals at the dormitories were all-you-can-eat buffets. He was certain to get his money's worth.

He was also becoming inexplicably strong. Since he'd started working for Marty, he had started to develop muscles. But where they had once been wiry, now he was filling out, and it couldn't be entirely explained by his manual labor. After all, his biceps and triceps could be attributed to the repetitive lifting of boxes of shingles and lumber, but his brand new six pack came from nowhere. He had never been fat, not by any means, but his once-flat stomach looked like he spent at least an hour a day doing crunches. He had never done a single one. And while he had once been able to carry only three boxes of shingles at a time, he could now hold six easily, and would have been able to carry more if it weren't for trying to balance them as he walked.

He probably shouldn't complain about his mysterious strength and body. Leah certainly wasn't, nor was she complaining about his newly inflamed libido.

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the same strange testosterone surge that was responsible for his cranky mood. Maybe it was their new engagement. Maybe it was the anticipation of moving out of their parents' houses soon. Probably it was Leah herself. But he wanted her. All. The. Time.

As two attractive teenagers in a long term relationship, their hormones had always influenced their behavior around one another. But he had never been one to risk getting caught; other than the night they had gotten engaged, he had never made love to her in her rather squeaky bed while her parents were just down the hall. He was both too cautious and too respectful of her family to do otherwise. So they normally limited themselves to times when they were truly alone. And he was gentle with her. If he had time, he was languid and slow with her, and no matter what, he was tender and sweet, and he was always generous with his hands, lips, and tongue. His favorite position was to sit or lie back and let her climb on him; he found that he lasted the longest that way, and no sight on earth was better than watching the beautiful Leah Clearwater naked and riding him.

Now, though, his sex drive was even less controlled than his temper, and he became very aggressive, no longer content to lie back and enjoy the view. He had to have her regardless of time, location, or company. He couldn't wait until they could be certain of privacy. His nighttime forays to her bedroom changed from romantic goodnight kisses with the occasional makeout session to heated fucks on the floor. One day at the beach, he barely managed to pull her behind a rock formation before pushing her into the sand. She winced from the grains scratching her back when he descended on her, so he flipped her onto her hands and knees and pulled her bikini bottoms aside. He had just worked his own trunks down and was about to plunge into her when the voices of two small children sounded on the other side of the rock. He barely got himself covered before two little girls appeared with plastic buckets and shovels. Leah was a little mortified, but mostly thought it was hysterically funny, but he just tossed their things into his truck, drove them to an isolated spot, and took her in the flatbed under an unusually bright Washington sun. They even went to the kind of wild house party that Sam normally avoided, because the idea of pushing her up against the bedroom door of an acquaintance suddenly held a previously unthinkable attraction. He didn't bother hiding his grunts or moans; if the music pounding from the living room didn't provide adequate cover, he no longer cared, because the only thing he knew was the sensation of his LeeLee wrapped around him. Most dangerous of all, he pulled her behind Harry's shed during a family barbecue. There was no way he'd be able to touch or taste her long enough to get her ready for his now-impressive girth, not in the brief moments they had before someone noticed they were missing, so he pushed her onto her knees in front of him and unzipped his pants.

He was horrified by his own behavior, but he no longer felt the ability to control it. Later that night, Sam climbed into her bedroom and apologized, begging forgiveness for his inexcusable behavior. But Leah licked her lips and her gaze darkened, and she admitted that she loved his dominant tendencies. He swore he couldn't just see her arousal in her expression or hear it in the quickening of her breath. Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought he could smell it. And it made him insane. He nearly crushed her with a kiss before he slid to the floor, tore her little pajama shorts off her, and drank of her until while she writhed. Before she was done spasming, he yanked her down until she straddled his thighs, pulled off her shirt, and shoved himself into her hot center.

She hadn't been lying. She loved it. He had to clamp his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. And after, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed with her and hold her for the rest of the night. But he had to leave. They couldn't risk getting caught by her parents.

They couldn't wait for their road trip. Harry wasn't comfortable with the idea and had initially shot it down. He argued that they shouldn't blow their money on a vacation, Sam's truck wouldn't survive a long trip, and he didn't think it was safe for two kids to go off on their own. Seth actually craned his neck to look up at him and interrupted to ask if his father if he really thought anyone in their right mind would try to mess with Sam. Sue later privately told her daughter that Harry was just having a hard time wishing his baby girl goodbye, and couldn't they give him just a few more weeks before they left for good? Leah realized that Sue was speaking for herself and Allison just as much as her husband.

It was Grandma Uley who intervened and convinced their parents to let them go. She pointed out just how hard the kids had worked, not only full time over the summer (Sam in his landscaping job and with Marty, Leah at tutoring and assisting the youth coordinator at the Tribal Center), but part time ever since they were fourteen. She said that they had never shown themselves to be anything less than responsible and that they had earned a vacation. Allison acquiesced first, then Sue, and finally Harry.

The academic calendar didn't actually start until the end of September, so they planned to leave on Labor Day weekend and drive down the coast, finding every surfing beach. They would stop along every kitschy attraction they could find on the way; if it wasn't close enough to the coast, they'd detour on their way back. California was full of them. There was a giant sequoia in Mendocino County they could drive directly through, a huge donut on top of a diner in Inglewood, and the tallest thermometer in the world in Baker, not to mention the Cabazon dinosaur display and Bigfoot museum they had been talking about for years. They would camp nearly every night to save money, and they would definitely go to Yosemite. If they were frugal enough, they'd treat themselves to a fancy hotel for a night in San Francisco and maybe L.A. Their plans got more and more elaborate. Sam suspected they didn't have enough time to do half the things Leah put on the list, but he suspected neither of them really cared. They'd be together, alone, and really nothing else mattered.

Which was why he still couldn't figure out why he was so irritable. Maybe he was just impatient to be done with work and off with Leah. That was probably all. Or he was just coming down with something.

In the second week of July, he started to feel nauseated. He woke at his usual six AM, early enough to give him time to mow Mrs. Cooper's yard before he had to meet the crew at their new site at eight; they were supposed to replace the roof on the Forks Middle School before the year started. Although he had gotten a good seven hours of sleep, he felt like he'd barely gotten a wink. His memory was fogged with snippets of a rapidly fading dream. All he could remember was darkness and heat. Instead of eating his usual giant meal, he was only able to stomach a single bowl of cereal before he left for work. He lifted his mower into the bed of his truck, finding the task easy despite his fatigue. But after forty five minutes of pushing the mower, he ached as if he had been doing it for hours. What was going on?

He fared no better at his other job. It was a misty day, but there was no true rain, so they should be able to work. He spent most of the day stooped over the building pulling up old shingles. It was somehow much easier and much harder than usual at the same time. He kept ripping them up forcefully, accidentally flinging them behind him into the parking lot below. But his muscles felt like they were burning. His whole body felt like it was burning. He downed bottle after bottle of water, but he couldn't keep up. When he managed to fling a shingle so far that it hit one of his co-workers standing by his car, Marty made his way over with his hands on his hips. "You okay, son? You don't look so good."

Sam shook his head, dripping sweat onto the wood below him. "I honestly don't feel so good. A summer cold, maybe?"

"Your nose stuffed up? Got a sore throat?"

"No. But I kind of ache all over."

"You're sweating like a pig, and there's no sun to justify it." It was true; it was a very mild and overcast day. "Everyone else is really comfortable out here, but you look like you've been stumbling through a desert with no canteen."

"I don't know what's wrong with me. Must have picked something up. "

Sam swayed on his feet a little, and Marty reached out to steady him. "Whoa there. Dammit, you're burning up! You need to go home!"

He didn't want to. His crew was trying to get a section done in the little window of semi-dry weather they had before it started to rain again, and they couldn't afford to be a man down. "No, I'm okay. I just need some more water."

One of his coworkers came over. "Sam, I saw you refill that giant jug at least four times. You've taken a leak twice, and we've only been up here four hours. That's not it."

Marty agreed. "This is a bad place to be if you're dizzy. Don't want to take a tumble and split your head open. Don't worry, we'll be fine. Sleep it off and give me a call in the morning; let me know if you're up to coming in, okay? And if not, go see your doctor. You look like death warmed over."

He barely remembered driving home, but he managed to get there somehow. He shivered and shook with chills, but just as Marty said, he felt like he was on fire. The moment he got home, he climbed into the shower, but he couldn't figure out if he needed it to run cool or warm. After fiddling with the knob, turning it up and getting overheated, then turning it down and feeling frozen, he gave up and dug his mother's tylenol and motrin out of the medicine cabinet. He hurt everywhere, and he thought he wouldn't be able to sleep without the help. He couldn't figure out which one to take, so he took them both.

He might as well have eaten a lollipop for all the good they did. He downed two more glasses of water and fell into bed. And then he shook, alternating between sweating and chills, tossing his blankets off him and yanking them back up, until he finally managed to fall asleep.

His dreams were bizarre and unrelenting. They were filled with pain, the same pain that lanced through his bones, and rage, inexplicable and explosive. When he opened his eyes and looked about the dream world, it was more vivid than the real one. He was in the forest. He could see each tiny insect crawling along the forest floor, individual dust motes floating in a ray of the sun, and distinguish water droplets by their particular size and shape on leaves 50 yards away. The forest was familiar, and he knew that it was the same one that he had played in since he was a child, but somehow it felt completely different. Why did it not have the hazy texture of dreams? And why could he not find his way home? He felt himself moving for miles, alternately running, walking, and in his exhaustion, finally stumbling.

He knew he had to find something. He had to find someone. Who was it? What was it? He was certain that he should have come across something by now. Here was the Quillayute River, which led to the ocean to the west. He knew exactly where he was, so why did he walk east along it and find only more water and more trees? Here was the fork in the river, here was another tributary, and here it narrowed even further. Where was the town? Where were the roads and the houses and all the marks of civilization that he knew he should have come across? Where was he? The last thing he remembered wondering was not where he was, but what he was.

And then his eyes were open. But was he still having a fever dream? His mother was there, and Leah was there, but they were distorted, tall, slender, wavering, unnaturally so, as if he was looking at them in a carnival mirror. He heard his mother's voice as through a long, echoing tunnel. "He's awake!"

"But he's still on fire," Leah answered. She too sounded as if she was far away. "Sam? Sammy?" His tongue felt too thick in his mouth to form words.

He felt arms trying to pull him up, and one of them, he wasn't sure who, shoved pillows under his head. A straw was forced between his parched lips. "Drink. Drink," his mother urged.

He managed, but only barely. As much water ended up dribbling down his chin and neck as in his stomach, but he was glad for it. It was a cool balm. He wished they would carry him into the tub and open the cold water tap over his body. He fell back into his dream, or was it his hallucination? Or perhaps he had wandered into another realm altogether.

The sounds. There were so many sounds. His senses were heightened. He couldn't just hear a pin drop in the next room, he heard a mouse making a nest in a tree outside. He heard his mother washing the dishes, and it sounded like she was breaking glass right next to his ear. The television from the next room sounded like screaming. Laugh tracks were the stuff of nightmares. Scents too were overwhelming, so strong he could taste them in his throat. His mother wiped him down with a cool washcloth, and it would have felt heavenly if not for the artificial perfumes impregnated into the cloth from the fabric softener, synthetic and harsh. But he couldn't tell her to stop. He couldn't wake up enough to do so. So he inhaled a hundred, a thousand smells at once. His own rank sweat. The pollen from his open window. The soothing scent of grass. The decaying pungency of rotting meat. Chemicals galore. Organic carbon. Dusky sulfurs. Sour methanes. Sharp amines.

And through it all, there was touch. Cool, calming touch. Soft hands, soft lips, and the scent of home. The scent of her. He calmed whenever he felt her near, whenever her slender body curled up against his, or if she took his hand in his. Because she would take care of him. She always had. She would not fail him now. If only he could wake to tell her how grateful he was.

It went on for hours or days or weeks, he had no idea. He lost all sense of time. Perhaps he had died. But if he was dead, he must be in Hell, because that was what his body told him. He burned. So yes, that must be it. He never believed in Heaven or Hell before this moment, but he was his own proof. He was there.

Until he heard voices speaking of doctors, of ambulances, of hospitals. His mind reeled. He imagined the wailing of sirens might burst his eardrums, that the beeping of monitors and the ringing alarms would drive him more mad than he already was. He thought of inhaling the fetid odors of illness, of decay, of urine, of medicine, of bleach.

So he pried his eyes open and found himself alone. It was night, cloudy and dark, but he could see everything around him as if spotlights illuminated everything. He lifted his arm, and while the small movement felt like torture, he realized he could do it. He heard the sounds of his mother, his grandmother, his lover, and her mother debating about him in the next room. They might as well have been shouting in his ear through megaphones. There it was again, that word. Hospital.

He shoved open the window, and he dropped soundlessly to the ground. Anything to escape before he was dragged away to such a place. He looked back, hearing her voice from inside, and couldn't believe he was walking away from her. But he'd come back for her. He always would.

The woods were just like they were in his dream. He could see everything. Absolutely everything. He could hear each individual cricket chirping, the rustling of feathers above him, the rapid breaths of small animals all around. He could taste the sea salt in the air, as well as a sharp electric tang, and somehow he knew a storm was coming. But this land wasn't just filled with water, trees, and animals. There were power lines, asphalt, and houses. If he paid attention, he could hear conversations through closed windows.

He felt the touch of pine needles against his chest, and he realized he was wearing nothing but his boxers. He itched to take them off. The usually soft cotton felt like sandpaper to his skin. He stumbled along as though blind, despite the fact that his vision had never been sharper, until he realized where he could go. His refuge. Her window. Her bed. Or, if he was in danger of being found, her treehouse. He turned around. He was going in the wrong direction. He was dazed, disoriented, but if he was a compass, she was his north.

On the way, he passed a small, ramshackle house. It smelled wrong, of alcohol and testosterone. No windows were open, but he heard the voices inside clearly. There were two men inside, Paul Lahote and a voice he couldn't quite place. Beneath their voices were the unmistakably bad music of a pornography soundtrack and the exaggerated, ridiculous sounds of people fucking in front of a camera.

"Damn. She's fine," said a stranger. "Rack looks natural, even."

"Nice set of titties. Look at 'em bounce when he rams her." That was Paul. "Ass has some, what do they call it? Cellulite, though."

"You don't like junk in the trunk?"

"'Course I do. Who doesn't? But I like it smoother, tighter than that."

"I don't know, man. I think she looks pretty good. But in a porn star, you can ask for perfection, I s'pose. It's not like you watch for the acting skills or something." They both took swigs of what Sam supposed was beer before the stranger continued. "But as long as the pussy is tight, who really cares?"

Paul snorted and laughed. "Then you wouldn't want her. All floppy and loose from all the movie fucking."

"Good to watch, though. Looks like she's even having a pretty good time."

"I dunno, it's kind of boring," Paul answered. "I like my women to have a little more fight in 'em."

There was a pause only filled by the sounds from the television, and the stranger said, "What do you mean? Like angry sex?"

"Yeah. I like a feisty girl."

"Oh, good. I thought you meant girls who didn't really want to or something."

"Fuck, dude, I'm no rapist," Paul scoffed. "Nah. But I do like it when girls argue with me. Turns me on. And I don't mind convincing them, either. I like a challenge."

"Well," the friend laughed, "Girls get pissed at you all the time. So I guess it must work for you, huh?"

By now, Sam had long passed the house. He couldn't believe that he could still hear them talking. But the next thing stopped him in his tracks.

Paul answered, "Yeah. The best is Clearwater." Sam froze.

His friend snickered, "Seth, huh? You're really a fag and a pedo. The ladies' man thing is just a front."

The distinct sound of Paul slapping the other guy in the back of the head followed immediately. "Shit. Leah, man. Who doesn't want Leah?"

"She's hot," the other guy agreed.

Sam couldn't take another step. Paul continued, "She's got a face for the cover of a magazine, and a body built for sin. Trust me, I've spent a long time looking at it."

"You know her, don't you?"

Sam began to shake uncontrollably.

"She's my tutor. I was doing too well in math. Had to throw a couple tests to make sure I could keep her."

"Seriously?"

He could hear Paul grinning, and he felt his heat rise to scorching levels. "Yeah. She wears these tight little shirts, and sometimes she wears this bra, I can see her hard nipples right through it. Those are my favorite days."

Fire began to rip through his body, and pain.

"Maybe she's not wearing a bra."

Paul laughed again, and the sound grated against Sam's ears. "I wish. No, I looked through her underwear drawer a couple times. She's got some cotton ones that are a little too thin, if you know what I mean."

Rage coiled in his belly and sliced through his limbs.

"Nice!"

"Now she has the perfect body, not some fake porn star like this one. Taut tummy, grabbable tits, round, tight ass, little waist, legs that go on for days. You ever seen her in a bikini?"

"Yeah. Spanked off to the memory more than once."

Sam couldn't breathe. Sweat poured off his body. He dropped to his knees in pain and fury.

"Me too. I'll bet her pussy is tight, man. That bodybuilder freak of a boyfriend must have a tiny dick from the 'roids he uses. I'll bet he has no idea how to touch her. I'd get her so wet. And I wouldn't just pound her pussy. I'd get her moaning for me, get her desperate and horny. Lube her up and slide into that pretty little ass. I'll bet she's a virgin back there. Uley doesn't have the balls to take her that way. I'd tear her up."

"In your dreams," his friend snorted.

Terrible agony ripped through Sam's body. Every muscle, every bone, every fiber of his being felt like it was being ripped apart. Like he wanted to rip Paul apart. He tried to scream, but nothing came out.

And then Paul spoke again. "In my dreams, in my bed. You know, I stole a pair of her panties. Little silky black thing with white lace at the edge. It's my favorite cumrag if I can't find a nice warm body. But I'd give my left nut if Leah would be my cumrag."

Sam knew exactly which panties Paul meant. They were his favorite, too, and he had wondered why he hadn't seen them lately. He thought about the way she looked in them, seductive and beautiful. But the image was for him, not for Paul. She was his. His rage reached a boiling point.

He exploded in a blinding world of pain.

He found his voice once again. Finally he could scream, finally he could release the exquisite fire inside him. But instead of the words he wanted to fling at Paul, he heard an awful howl. And then another.

What the fuck was that? He stumbled over his own feet, twisting his head this way and that to see what awful beast had made the sound. It was so loud, surely it was upon him. Surely he was about to die. Or he was already dead, this really was Hell, and some demon was after him. He tripped on his hands and knees trying to look around, but for some reason, he was on his feet and hands. Not knees. He tripped and fell again. What the fuck was going on? Why was he suddenly less coordinated than a newborn baby?

He struggled to his feet, but toppled back down again. But he saw paws, not feet. Enormous black ones tipped with razor-sharp claws. He stalked back, away from them, but they moved with him.

He heard whimpering now, and thin whining. Where was the howling monster? Where was the thing trying to eat him?

He stepped on fabric and looked back. A bent, black leg, covered in fur, stepping on shredded plaid cotton of a familiar pattern. It looked just like his boxers.

And then it clicked. He was the demon.

A floorboard creaked in Paul's house. He looked up just as the knob started to turn, and he fled into the woods.

X-x-x-x-X

It wasn't possible. This could not be reality. At any moment, he would wake from his fever dream, find himself in his room or the hospital, and he would tell Leah about his ridiculous hallucination. She would laugh, he might even exaggerate for her benefit, and everything would go back to normal.

But this didn't feel like a dream. It felt like nothing he had experienced before the dreams over the past few days. And if those were dreams, as he remembered them, what was this? Were they dreams within a dream? Was that even possible? What was the alternative? A psychotic break? Had he completely lost his mind? Was this another unwanted gift from his father? Mental illness? He had been drugged?

It was impossible to tell. All he could do was wait. He slowed his terrified sprint and looked down at his feet. No, his paws. Fucking paws. Enormous ones, larger than he had seen on any animal. And jet black fur. He willed his right hand to lift, and sure enough, the paw in his field of vision moved up. He moved the left. The same thing. What the hell was he? He had a compelling need to know.

He needed a mirror. Maybe he could knock on Paul's door and ask for a mirror. He laughed at the absurdity, and out came a series of barks. He growled in frustration, and... Fuck. He was growling. He sounded terrifying.

Where could he go to look at himself? He could run up to the river, but the dark, flowing water wouldn't give him much of a reflection. Glass would be better. Where could he find glass? A parking lot would be full of cars, cars with windshields and windows aplenty, but any well lit lot would probably also have people around.

Except the schools. They were lit all night long to prevent vandalism. There would be no cars, but there were many windows. He began to walk. Or trot. Shit, this felt like a gallop, not like a walk. He had to stop it. He couldn't give in to the madness. He was walking. On two feet. Or better yet, lying in a bed somewhere having the most vivid nightmare of his life. That was all.

It only took him a few minutes to reach the tribal school. He stopped in the shadows of the trees and paid careful attention. There was life everywhere, he now realized, tiny animals all around him, the nocturnal ones awake and foraging, the slow heartbeats of those asleep in their dens, the wind rustling the leaves. But no human voices here, no footsteps, no movement in the building.

It looked exactly as he remembered it. No, that wasn't true, it looked even clearer than he remembered it. When he closed his eyes and reached into his memory, he could call up a picture of his school, but he couldn't remember if each window had four panes in it or six, which of the bricks were crumbling, or how many vents and exhausts protruded from the roof. He opened his eyes. The windows had six panes, nine bricks were nearly gone, dotted across the side, and there were five exhaust pipes in the roof. Shit. When he woke up for real, he'd have to come see if his subconscious was correct.

He approached the building, wanting to look in the closest window before someone (or something) else came along. The computer lab had a lamppost right outside it, so he headed for that one. He kept his eyes trained on the grass below him. He moved forward until he was only a couple feet away from his own reflection. He hadn't been this scared since he was a small child lying in his room listening to his father hurt his mother. At least this time, no one would be hurt except him. He raised his eyes.

He screamed, but the scream came out as a howl, which he rapidly choked off. He couldn't believe what he saw. Despite seeing his own paws, fur, and in his peripheral vision, the snout between his own eyes, he had refused to acknowledge the truth. But now it was staring him in the face. The largest, darkest, most terrifying animal he had ever seen was staring at him in the glass.

Again he fled, unable to look any longer. He raced for home, knowing nowhere else to go, and it was only when he was halfway there in what felt like mere seconds that he realized his own speed. It was amazing. He could have been in a car, except the best engineered of machines could never be as dexterous as he was, instinctively leaping over fallen logs and dodging trees as he whipped past. It was at the same moment that he realized that the pain which had so recently been ripping through his body was gone. Vanished, along with his human body. Should he be grateful for the relief? No. He would give anything to be lying in his bed again with LeeLee wiping his forehead with a cool towel. He would happily bear the pain.

He heard them before he saw them. Their frantic voices were screaming his name. He slowed to a silent walk and peered through the trees. He couldn't see her through the house, but Sue must have been climbing into her car, yelling, "I'll head east to the main road, see if I can spot him."

Grandma's voice was next, and the sound of Sue's car door shutting. "I'll see if he might have wandered over to my house."

"I'll send Harry over to help."

He could see his mother through the open kitchen window. She was on the phone, and despite the distance, he heard her clearly. She was basically screaming. "I know that's the policy, but he's sick! He might have been hallucinating. We were about to take him to the hospital. This isn't a case of a runaway who's going to regret leaving by morning. His keys are here, his wallet is here, and his truck is in the driveway. He could be collapsed in the middle of the forest!" She paused, reaching her arm to the wall for support. "Okay. Yeah. Okay. I'll be here." She disappeared, and another door opened and slammed shut. "Did Leah go with Sue?"

"No," Grandma answered. "Isn't she with you?"

"No. She must be in the backyard. Leah? Leah!" Allison appeared around the corner of the house, yelling, "Leah? Sam? Guys? Where are you?"

Sam didn't know it was possible to panic more than he was already, and he began to trot forward. He couldn't fathom what had happened to him, but his mind suddenly reeled with what might have happened to her. Where the hell was she?

He smelled Leah's distinct scent with a change in the wind, and without second thought, followed the trail. It didn't take long to figure out where she was going. She must have seen his open window and thought he might have gone to his childhood refuge: her bed or her treehouse. He picked up speed and sure enough, her scent was stronger along the familiar path between her house and his. It was only seconds later that he heard her. She was calling out his name. "Sammy? Sam? Where are you? Answer me, baby! It's going to be okay!"

He almost answered her before he remembered the sounds of his howls and whines. So he crept closer, following her. She was pushing through the brush without regard to her own comfort. He could smell iron in the air and realized it was her blood; she must have been cut on a passing branch. It made him sicker than he already felt. He couldn't bear her pain, particularly now that he could also smell the sharp scent of her fear in the air.

God. She was hurting because of him. Scared for him. And if she caught sight of him, she would be scared of him. Fuck. What was he supposed to do?

He watched her for hours. As soon as she was in sight of her house, she started to sprint. She paused on the ground, looking between her own window and the treehouse, calling his name. A light turned on upstairs, and he knew she was sure it was him. But it was Harry. Her father slid open the window and explained gravely that her mother had already called him. He had been about to leave for Sam's house when Allison called saying Leah had also disappeared, so he had waited at his house to see if she would appear. Leah ignored him as she spoke and climbed up the rope ladder. She paused at the top, clearly terrified that he would not be inside. She started to cry when she didn't find him, and he watched every tear as it traced her cheek and fell to the ground.

Harry gathered her into a hug before they got into his car. Seth went with them, unwilling to be left behind to worry by himself, and they returned to Allison's house. Sam, uncertain what else to do, followed.

His mother was speaking with the tribal police when they arrived. They agreed to start searching immediately despite the fact that he had been missing only a short time, since not only his mother, but Sue as well, insisted he was ill and not thinking straight. He snorted aloud. He was definitely not thinking straight. He was hallucinating that he was a giant wolf. Within an hour or so, a small force was gathered at his house with flashlights and maps. He watched them divide the surrounding area into grids, and then they started to emerge from the house, pairing off as they left. He shrank farther into the woods.

What should he do? Give himself up? Maybe they would take him to the hospital and fix him. Then he looked down at his claws. No, more likely they would think he had eaten himself. Fuck. Maybe he had. Had a giant monster consumed him as he slept and somehow they had merged? He almost laughed aloud at the thought, but then stopped short when he realized that other than a terrible hallucination, it was as likely an explanation as any.

How was it that a psychotic break with reality was his best hope?

A twig snapped at the edge of the yard, and Sam realized he needed to move. Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to do? He saw Leah being led to her mother's car. She was leaning on her younger brother and protesting about wanting to look for him, but Sue flatly refused. Harry was joining the search team, but the rest of the family was going home. He silently backed away from his own home and the sight of his mother and grandmother clinging to one another in the kitchen. Leah was right when she looked for him at her own home. It was his refuge, now as much as ever. He eluded the search team and returned to the woods behind her house.

Sam listened to her cry until she shuffled off to the bathroom. After, she sat at her window with a single hand pressed against the window. He wanted to step forward and show her that he was all right. He wanted to climb the trellis and into her bed. He wanted to hold her and whisper in her ear that he had always loved her more than anything, more than anyone. Dammit. Had he still not said the words? Would he ever get a chance? Would she always wonder how he really felt about her?

His only interruption was the search party. At some point in the night, a pair of men began to walk toward him. He wasn't sure who. He silently melted back into the trees as they approached, and he returned to his spot when they were gone. Leah was still looking for him out her window, but her eyes were not as keen as his, and she could not see him. Eventually she started to sway from exhaustion, so she lay down and cried herself to sleep. It was the worst thing he had ever heard. He lay down on his own paws until he, too, slept.

He wasn't certain what woke him the next morning, but even without opening his eyes, he knew nothing had changed. He didn't move, but he focused his senses on his surroundings, searching for evidence of Leah. He could hear her even though she wasn't speaking. He was sure of it. He filtered through the other sounds of the wind, the trees, and the insects around him. He listened, and he heard movement in the Clearwater house. She was walking around. Seth was still asleep. Sue was getting ready for work. He couldn't hear anything else. Harry was probably still searching for him. He was probably lucky no one had stumbled across him in the night.

What was he supposed to do? Just wait this out? He had no idea. He was parched and starving, so when she left her room to take a shower, he sprinted to the Quillayute River to take a long drink. He was back before she was dressed.

He spent the entire day following her. She went to his house first, where his heart sank even further when he saw how terrible his mother looked. Upon finding no news, Leah went to her job at the Tribal Center. She probably would have called off, but it was next to the police station, and itself was a hub of activity and information, all centered around finding him. He watched people come and go. The edge of the forest was rather far from the buildings, so he couldn't hear what was going on, but from time to time she would walk past a window, allowing him to catch a glimpse. For a while she sat in a chair staring into the forest, right where he sat. He wanted to walk forward and show himself, but he resisted the urge. He felt his stomach begin to growl again, but he ignored it.

But he didn't stop himself from imagining that she could see him, that she knew who he was despite his impossible appearance, and that at any moment, she would run to him and throw her arms around him. Of course, she never did. What would she do, pet him? It was ridiculous.

Eventually she held a tutoring session, but it was interrupted by a phone call. She sprinted out of the building and headed straight for his house as quickly as she could go. He stayed close, and when he approached, he heard her choked voice. She was arguing with his mother as a deep, male voice tried to calm them both. "Of course that's it!"

It sounded like his mother was opening and closing every drawer in his room. "No, no. It has to be here somewhere!"

"It's not some standard plaid. Of course it's his!" Then, with obvious terror in her voice, Leah asked, "Why's it all ripped up?"

It took him until the police officer emerged from the house, an evidence bag in his hand, until he finally understood. His boxers, his only clothing, had shredded when he exploded. He could see a scrap of the distinct material through the plastic. He couldn't remember what he had been wearing, but he saw little yellow Batman logos all over the black cotton; a silly joke from Leah, who remembered his Justice League underoos from their childhood.

The officer drove off, and he listened to the despairing conversation through the open window. They were terrified for him, because now they thought he wasn't just sick, disoriented, and alone, but naked too. How right they were.

X-x-x-x-X

Sam stayed close to Leah for another night, listening to her breathe and wanting to climb up to her, but eventually his hunger and thirst pulled him away. He went to the river first, drinking his fill while he tried to figure out how to find something to eat. He began to salivate at the thought of a nice, juicy steak, and then he got depressed thinking about trying to use a grill. He lay his paws on the ground and rested his head on them, staring into the water and watching fish swim by. And he realized to his surprise that they looked appetizing just the way they were. A few sleepy trout were hovering quite still along the edge. He leaned over the water, but he moved much too fast, startling all of them away.

Okay, so now what? And even if they hadn't moved, what would he have done? Bat at the water until a fish flew out? It was ridiculous. He was a wolf, apparently. Not a shark or a bear. What did wolves eat?

Thinking about it made him as exhausted as he was hungry. He hadn't slept in more than twenty four hours. He didn't know what to eat, but he knew a sheltered place to sleep. He made his way to the protected cave near Third Beach where he and Leah often snuck off to make love. He lay down, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach, and remembered the last time he and Leah had visited the spot. His last thought was a hope that he would wake up in his own body.

Of course he wasn't so lucky. The next day he left the reservation in search of food and in search of himself. He didn't know where he went, exactly, but he gave in to the animal, and he hunted. He recognized the violence that had always resided within him, and for once, he embraced it. He taught himself to watch, to stalk, and finally to kill.

He was horrified with himself once his hunger pangs were replaced by his distended belly. His fur was covered in the blood of the deer he had destroyed. He frantically searched for a lake in which to wash, but the sight of liquid pink tendrils snaking away from his fur in the water was almost as disturbing as the bright red drops that had dripped from his fangs.

He didn't eat again for three days. He slept fitfully in the hollow of a cliff wall, and he dreamt about a life that he now believed he would never regain. Each time he closed his eyes he hoped he would wake in the body he remembered, but he never did. He roamed, avoiding populated areas. He fed when he had to, drank whenever he found water, and when he slept, he dreamed.

In the moments between sleeping and waking, he began to wonder what was real. Perhaps he had always been a wolf who had only dreamed of being a man. Maybe he had seen the girl from afar, fallen in love with her, and invented a human story for himself in which he could be with her. Because she would never be with a monster such as him. He was either a true animal, a freak of nature, a thing of nightmares, or a pathetic man who had lost his mind.

When he realized that of those possibilities, he hoped for madness, he despaired.

Day faded into night faded into day. He thought about his mother, the generous, loving woman who dedicated her entire life to him. Too bad it was a waste (assuming any of his memories of her were real). He thought of his grandmother, who had transferred all her hopes for her once-promising son onto him. If she existed, he could now only elicit her terror and revulsion. And he thought of his LeeLee, his beautiful girl, he dreamt of the life he wanted with her, and he wished for her.

In between wishing, he tried to figure out where his place was in the world, and he learned about himself. He was not surprised to find that he could easily distinguish the myriad scents of the forests and the musky trails of other animals. He tested his speed, because it seemed to be the only joy this life offered him. He began to search for others of his kind, but he found only smaller, territorial versions that growled and snapped at his intimidating size, and he left them alone. He lost track of the days, but the season didn't change. He didn't know what to do with himself, and the longer he wandered, the more terrified he became, because he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into the wolf.

He finally decided to find his way home. If there was anything left of the human he remembered, he would find it there. He would find it in her, in she who must remember him, if he had ever been real. He would show himself to her, and perhaps she would tell him who he was. If she would not, if she did not know who he was when she looked into his eyes, he could at least remain in the place they had explored together. Remaining there, he could remember her after she departed, and he would not leave. He turned for home.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410, who is a wonderful beta. All mistakes are mine.


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